


A cock named Phil

by Thei



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: (as in a bird), Billy adopts a cock, Domestic Boyfriends, Established Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Injuries, Movie Night, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, dangerous driving, drunk teenagers, for a cocktober prompt list, mentions of dead pets (brief), one-sided flirting (karen wheeler), so many innuendos, so many puns, that's basically it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 33,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thei/pseuds/Thei
Summary: Billy finds and adopts a cock.As in the bird.That's it. That's the story.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 295
Kudos: 216
Collections: Cocktober Prompt Meme





	1. Ouija board

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompts on [this prompt list](https://cockasinthebird.tumblr.com/post/628521075126517760/cocktober-prompt-list-rules-however-you-please).
> 
> This has been very fun and liberating to write because a) I wrote it to be contrary and b) I haven't given one single fuck how it would turn out.
> 
> <3

“This is my life now”, Steve said to no one in particular, looking up at the darkening sky. “I can’t believe this is how I spend my time nowadays.”

Dustin patted him on the back before elbowing him to the side immediately afterwards, and threw a grin his way. “Some would say it’s not a matter of how you spend your time, but _who you spend it with_.”

Steve leveled him with an unimpressed stare. “I stand by my earlier statement.”

Dustin just gave him a thumbs-up without looking back. Steve sighed and watched as the kid wobbled and almost fell down the pile of junk he had started climbing. In the distance, Mike was yelling excitedly about something, and there was a faint crash from the other direction, where Billy – if Steve had to guess – was probably busy smashing old car windows.

It was a Friday evening just after dinner, and they were all at the junk yard, of all places. ‘For a science project’, according to Dustin. ‘For fun’, according to Max. Steve wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten roped into driving half the Party here, but at least he wasn’t alone. Billy had been forced to drive the rest of them, as they all wouldn’t fit in Steve’s car. (‘For a moment of peace and quiet’, as Billy had put it before stalking off to take some of his aggressions out on some poor abandoned cars.)

Steve wished he’d gone with him – maybe they could have snuck in some light necking, out of sight – especially when Dustin shrieked with delight and emerged behind a pile of trash a second later, holding what might once had been a vacuum cleaner. Steve wasn’t sure – the dirt and dried mud made it hard to tell.

“You’re not putting that in my car”, he said before Dustin had a chance to open his mouth.

“But –“

“ _No_. That’s where I draw the line, Henderson. If you’re bringing that home, you’re walking.”

Dustin drew in a breath to – no doubt – argue, but that’s when Mike and Lucas ran up to them, holding what looked like a piece of cardboard.

“Guys, _guys_ , look what we found!”

Lucas brandished whatever it was like a prize, and what had looked like cardboard turned out to be an _actual_ board, made of wood. It had a bunch of letters and shapes on it, and Steve groaned as he recognized what it was. “Oh _no_.”

“Oh _yes_!” Mike said excitedly, and when El approached (closely followed by Max) he held it up for her to see.

“What is that?” she asked, just as Max’s eyes lit up;

“Oh cool, an Ouija board!”

Mike, always eager to explain things, jumped on the opportunity to do just that. “It’s a way to contact the spirit world.”

“It’s a scam”, Steve muttered. “It’s not real.”

“It’s _really cool_ , is what it is”, Mike insisted and glared at Steve before turning heart eyes to El once again, “we can totally use it in our Halloween campaign! You’ll see, it’ll be awesome!”

A loud metallic bang made all of them jump and turn around. It was Billy, having discarded whatever pipe he’d been demolishing cars with into an old oil barrel. And he was grinning.

“What’s up, losers?” he said as he walked closer. “Whatever you found, I can guaran-fucking-tee you that it’s lame compared to what _I_ found.”

“It’s not lame!” Lucas said – with another glare in Steve’s direction. “ _Or_ a scam. It’s an Ouija board!”

“ _Lame_ ”, Billy said, still grinning.

That grin meant something, Steve was sure of it. So he took the bait. “Oh yeah? What did _you_ find, then?”

Billy turned, raising his eyebrows and making a ‘ta-daa’ gesture at where he just came from. At first, nothing happened. Then, a couple of seconds later (and Steve could _hear_ Dustin’s intake of breath in preparation for a comment), something moved. A haggard-looking bird – _a rooster_ , Steve’s mind supplied – came strutting after Billy, its walk a little wonky.

“It’s a _cock_!” Billy announced and turned back at them, looking absolutely delighted at the pun.

“Oh god”, Steve groaned.

“He followed me around for a bit, I think he likes me.”

Max sniggered. “He’s probably drawn to you, ‘cause you’re a dick.”

“Fuck you, Maxine”, Billy said, scowling, before swooping up the – weirdly un-protesting – bird in his arms. “I’m keeping him.”

“Oh _god_ ”, Steve said under his breath, already predicting how this would go.

And just as he thought, Dustin took the opportunity to wave his mess of a vacuum cleaner around. “Alright, if _he_ gets to bring a _bird_ home then I should be allowed to bring _this_!”

Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Ugh. Whatever.”

“Wait, _really_?”

“Sure. If you use Billy’s car.”

Billy only cackled. “In your dreams, Henderson!”


	2. Haunted Mansion

“Come on _, please_?”

Steve was gaping at the impossibility of the sight before him. “That’s like the first time you’ve _ever_ said ‘please’, Billy, you realize that, right?”

“Okay that’s _not_ true, I distinctly remember you making me beg a couple of nights ago when –“

“ _Okay_!” Steve sent a nervous look to Max and Lucas who were watching them through the Camaro’s windows and who were probably eavesdropping. “No need to get into details.”

After their little outing to the junk yard, he had driven Will and Dustin home and dropped El and Mike off at the Wheeler’s house, before coming back to his house only to find the Camaro parked in front of it, the Max and Lucas still in the back and Billy leaning against the hood while holding the cock under one arm.

The cock, as in the bird he’d found.

Now Billy was trying to hand said bird over to Steve, because “You know I can’t keep him at my place, Neil would kill him and me both, and you have this whole house to yourself … Pretty please?” Billy batted his (ridiculously long and luscious, seriously, how were those even real?) eyelashes at Steve, making Steve groan.

“Low blow, Hargrove.”

“I’ll blow you, alright. If that’s what it takes.”

Sighing, Steve tried to gently push Billy away from him without touching the bird. As if it could feel his reluctance, it used the sudden proximity to peck at his arm, making him yelp.

“See?? It hates me!”

“ _He_. _He_ hates you. And he has a name, you know.”

Steve levelled him with a glare. “Oh yeah? What is it, then?”

“Phil.”

“ _Phil_?”

“Phil Cockins.”

Steve took a deep breath through his nose. “I hate you.”

Billy ignored him in favor of holding the cock in front of his face (Steve noticed that the bird – Phil, apparently – didn’t try to peck at _Billy_ ) and smiling at it. “He looks a little like him, don’t you think? Ugly as shit.”

“I’m gonna ignore that because I _know_ you didn’t just badmouth Phil Collins in my presence.”

Billy licked his lips and smiled like a shark.

Steve tried again. “You know, it –“

“He.”

“– _he_ probably belongs to someone.”

“Damn right he does. Me.” At Steve’s glare, Billy pouted. “Come on, it’s _one night_! This is very unlike you, Harrington. You’re usually the caring one, out of the two of us. But here you are, basically saying we should have left him at the junk yard. Alone in the world, without shelter or food or safety, where there are monsters and fucking _kids_ with _sticks_ , and –“

“Okay!” Steve held his hands up, defensively, before yanking the bird – Phil – out of Billy’s grasp. “I’ll let him stay – for one night! And only because it’s you.” Billy looked like the cat who got the cream, while Phil wriggled a little in Steve’s grasp and tried to flap his wings. It was a struggle to hold him still.

Giving up, Steve unlocked the door to his house and deposited Phil inside before closing the door again and giving a proper goodnight kiss to his insufferable boyfriend. He could _feel_ Billy’s smugness through the kiss.

“You owe me for this, big time”, he murmured into Billy’s ear.

“I’ll make it worth your while later”, was Billy’s reply before he backed up and waggled his eyebrows. “Take good care of my cock tonight, Harrington!”

Steve snorted out a laugh, and watched as Billy got back in the car and backed out of the drive – presumably to drive Lucas home before taking Max and himself back to their house.

Then he went back inside to take care of his new houseguest. Phil, the cock.

Only Phil, the cock, was no longer in sight.

The house was dark, and too quiet. It was a big house. _Too_ big, really. Some nights, when Billy came over, he jokingly called it a mansion, and Steve had never understood it until now. There were too many rooms for one person. Too many rooms where someone – some _thing_ – could be hiding. Knowing there was a bird who probably hated his guts loose in the house made it seem bigger. Less familiar. Less _safe_.

“Uh, Phil?” Steve called out, hesitatingly, while reaching out behind his back to lock the door. Just in case. “Phil … Cockins?”

Was that movement, just outside the edge of his vision? Steve swirled around, heart in his throat. But nothing. Everything was still, and silent as the grave. Despite this, there was an unfamiliar kind of presence in the house. A feeling of not being _alone_.

It almost felt _haunted_.

Steve started to sweat.


	3. Freaky Friday (body switch)

“Hello.”

Lucas looked at whoever was driving the car that had slowed down next to where he and Dustin were walking with their bikes, next to the road, and promptly stepped back. Dustin, when he saw who it was, actually hissed.

“ _No_! Begone, demon!”

“What?” Billy said, frowning a little. “What did I do?”

“What do you mean, what did you do?” Dustin said. “You were _smiling_!”

“Yes, because I was trying to be _friendly_. Was gonna ask you if you guys needed a ride.” Billy was still driving beside them, albeit slowly, and threw a glance up in the rearview mirror to make sure he wasn’t stopping traffic. “I’m going to Steve’s, and figured you guy were as well. So. Do you need a ride?” And then he smiled again. A real, genuine, friendly smile.

Lucas and Dustin both took a step back this time.

“Uh”, Lucas said.

Dustin elbowed him in the side. “Thanks, but we’ll walk. It’s a lovely day. Thanks. Bye.”

“Whatever”, Billy mumbled, still smiling. “See you guys later.” And then he drove off, leaving the two boys by the side of the road.

They looked at each other.

“That was weird, right?”

“So weird.”

“I mean, he was actually, you know, _pleasant_.”

“ _Soooo_ weird.”

“You don’t think it’s … you know … Upside Down-related?”

They stared at each other for a second too long, before wordlessly getting back on their bikes and peddling towards Steve’s house as fast as they could.

When they got there, the Camaro was parked out front, but Billy was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Steve. Dustin and Lucas ran to the front door and slammed the it open in their haste, not bothering with knocking or waiting for a ‘come in’. “Steve!”

Steve came out of the kitchen, scowling at them. “ _What_? Why are you barging in here like this? We _have_ a doorbell. I could have been naked or something, what the fuck, guys?”

“We just …” Dustin said, a little bewildered at Steve’s aggressive tone. “We wanted to see if you were okay.”

“And you had to knock down my door to do that?” Steve said, still annoyed.

“Now now, sweetheart”, came Billy’s voice, as he walked out into the hallway and put one hand on Steve’s shoulder (he was using his other arm to hold Phil, the cock). “Be nice. They’re just worried about you, is all, right guys?” And with that, he turned an uncharacteristically earnest face to the boys, while Steve crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

“Uh”, Lucas said, intelligently, while Dustin gaped. “Right.”

“Still could have knocked”, Steve muttered before going into the kitchen. Billy threw a smile their way before following.

“Okay”, Dustin hissed at Lucas. “I think I know what’s going on here.”

“Good”, Lucas said. “Because I am confused. Billy’s nice and Steve’s not, something is definitely wrong here.”

“Only one explanation”, Dustin said, nodding.

“Yeah.”

“They’ve switched bodies.”

“Uh-huh.” Lucas started nodding too, before freezing. “Wait, what?”

“You said it yourself!” Dustin whisper-shouted. “Billy’s nice and Steve is not. _Obviously_ , Steve is now Billy, and Billy is now Steve!”

“ _Or_ ”, Steve interrupted, coming out of the kitchen and giving them a pointed stare, “maybe _Billy_ got a good night’s sleep while _I_ hardly got _any_ sleep last night, because Phil-fucking-Cockins here ran around in the house and I didn’t catch him until 3am. And then I locked him in the basement. And then he crowed for the rest of the night, keeping me up.”

“Aw”, Billy cooed with a shit-eating grin. “My cock keeping you up at night?”

“ _Don’t_!” Steve said, pointing at Billy with a shaking finger and seemingly trying hard to restrain himself. “Don’t fuck with me today, Hargrove. I’m not in the mood.”

Billy grabbed the finger gently and pressed the lightest of kisses to the tip of it while looking up at Steve through his lashes. “How about I let you do the fucking? Would that make you feel better?”

Steve, Lucas and Dustin all let out loud protests at the same time, while Billy cackled. Steve threw his arms up, blushing, and fled into the kitchen, and Lucas and Dustin had their fingers in their ears, making gagging noises.

“Lalalala I can’t hear you!”

“Oh god, oh god, oh _god_ , I need brain bleach!”

“Man, you guys are pussies”, Billy said when he’d stopped laughing. “Here, hold Phil while I go smoothen out some ruffled feathers.”

He thrust the bird into Lucas’ arms, and didn’t wait for him to get a good hold before rushing after Steve. Phil flapped his wings and crowed and tried to pick at Lucas’ eyes before Dustin jumped in to help, so eventually they both stood in the hallway, holding a struggling bird between them.

“I take it back”, Lucas said, panting. “Billy’s his usual asshole self. The smile was obviously a fluke.”

Dustin nodded. “Obviously.”


	4. Watching a horror movie

“This is _shit_ ”, Steve muttered, arms crossed over his chest and glancing to the side. “Fucking _bull_ shit.”

Beside him on the couch was Billy, legs drawn up and socked feet digging into the couch cushion underneath him. He was wearing sweatpants, tube socks, and one of Steve’s old T-shirts – the comfortable one, where the seam to one of the sleeves had started tearing. He hadn’t put any product in his hair since he showered, so it was soft and a little frizzy. He was _gorgeous_. Looked good enough to _eat_ , and Steve _really_ wanted a taste.

“Hm?” Billy said without taking his eyes off the screen, from where some chick was screaming at some dude. “What’s that?”

Had Steve and Billy been alone, this would have been the perfect movie night. They had the whole house to themselves, beer in the fridge, popcorn in a bowl on the table, a bad horror movie playing on the TV … If Steve and Billy had been alone, Steve would have snuggled up in Billy’s lap and pretended to be more scared than he was, just as an excuse to get closer. And Billy would have rolled his eyes, but let him.

Only, they _weren’t_ alone. And Billy’s lap was already occupied.

“I said it’s bullshit”, Steve said, grumpily, glaring at the cock between Billy’s legs.

The cock glared back. Billy absent-mindedly reached down to stroke it, while glancing over at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

“May I remind you that _you_ chose the movie? And that I _told_ you that _‘The Howling’_ sounded lame, but you said, and I quote, _‘It’s werewolves, Billy. Werewolves are the definition of badass.’_ ” Billy used a whiny voice to mimic Steve, which made Steve frown even harder because that sounded nothing like him. Billy laughed when he saw the look on Steve’s face. “Come on, babe, just enjoy the movie. It’s bad, so what? That’s what makes it fun. Look!” He pointed at the screen, where some snarling beer-bellied guy was shooting at a car. “If you squint, that looks like Hopper.”

Steve couldn’t resist looking, but the dude did not resemble Hopper in the slightest, so he turned his attention back to his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who was sitting in Steve’s couch, in Steve’s house, wearing Steve’s clothes – stroking a cock that wasn’t Steve’s.

“Aww, they killed the car”, Billy commented idly over something happening on the TV, looking truly sad at this fact, and Steve wanted to kiss him silly. Which he would have been able to do, if it wasn’t for Phil, the cock.

More like Phil, the cock block.

“Bullshit”, he muttered again and glared at the bird. If looks could kill, Phil would resemble a Thanksgiving dinner by now.

“Are you _jealous_?”

Billy’s incredulous voice made Steve look up, and he found that Billy was watching him.

“What? No. _What_? Of course not. No.” He could _feel_ himself getting less credible with each word, and tried to wave it away with an awkward wave of his hand. Billy’s smile only grew.

“Are you jealous of _Phil_?”

Afraid to make more of a fool of himself, Steve just gave a one-shouldered shrug and made a face that he hoped showed indifference. “Pfft, no.”

Billy put his feet down on the floor and held his arm up , hovering over the back of the couch. “Come here.”

Steve briefly considered ignoring him, for the sake of his pride. But in the end, he couldn’t refuse such a blatant invitation, especially when Billy waved his hand impatiently. “Come on. You know you want to.”

So he ducked under Billy’s arm and leaned up against him, resting his head on Billy’s shoulder. Billy put his arm around Steve’s shoulder and pulled him even closer, and Steve couldn’t help himself – he let out a contented little sigh. He both felt and heard Billy chuckle. Phil looked up at the movement, but soon settled back in Billy’s lap.

Strange, how Phil looked cuter now, when he wasn’t keeping Steve from snuggling up to his boyfriend. The bird didn’t seem to be interested in the movie (Steve could honestly relate; it wasn’t very good, _even_ though it had werewolves), but instead he was blinking and fluffing up his feathers, eventually resembling a feathered loaf of bread. After a couple of minutes, the bird faceplanted – if birds _could_ faceplant – against Billy’s thigh, and Steve had to huff out an amused breath at the sight.

“He’s so ugly, right?” Billy said fondly, in a voice other people might have used to call something ‘cute’.

“Yeah”, Steve said, in the same voice. “He is.”

That elicited a satisfied ‘hmmm’ from Billy, who gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze.

“You can pet him if you like, you know. He won’t bite.”

“Oh, he will most certainly bite.”

“Nah, he likes you, secretly. Also, he’s asleep.”

Steve didn’t dignify that with a reply, and after a couple of seconds, Billy said, “Come on, Harrington. Pet him. You know you want to.”

“I do not.”

“Touch him.” A snort. “ _Touch my cock_.”

“I would”, Steve said and twisted his neck to give Billy a pointed look, complete with raised eyebrows. “But the bird is in the way.”

Billy laughed so hard that he woke Phil up.


	5. Blood

Someone was at the door. It was ten o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, which many people would consider to be _way_ too early to be at someone’s door. Steve was definitely one of those people.

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming!” he shouted, struggling to put on a T-shirt while simultaneously avoid tripping over his own feet and fall down the stairs. “Hold your fucking horses!”

He glanced at the clock in the kitchen as he passed it – ten _to_ ten, even, _unbelievable_ – and shook his head. Ripping open the door just as whoever was outside rang the doorbell again, he squinted against the light and snarled, “Someone better be dying!” Then he saw who was standing there and immediately felt like the world’s biggest asshole.

“Not dying”, Billy rasped, blood running down his face and with a crooked grin that showed off bloody teeth. “Sorry to disappoint.”

It took a moment for Steve to react, but when Billy turned his head and spat blood into Steve’s mother’s flowerbed, he was startled into action. Grabbing Billy by the arm, he all but pulled him into the house and shut the door behind them.

“Shit, Billy,” he said, and gently grabbed Billy’s face between his hands, trying to assess the damage. “Are you okay?”

Billy – wonder of wonders – let Steve tilt his face this way and that, and only shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not so bad.”

“’Not so bad’!” Steve said in indignation. “You look like Carrie!”

“You calling me a chick?”

Not bothering to reply to that, Steve pulled Billy into the downstairs bathroom and sat him down on the toilet. He then proceeded to rifle through the shelves for one of his mom’s less fancy towels, which he put in the sink. Billy, meanwhile, had bent over and procured the little first aid kit that they kept under the sink.

Billy had come over before, after a bout with his dad, but it had never been this bad. Usually, he just shouldered Steve aside and locked himself in the bathroom to patch himself up, before emerging afterwards and accepting whatever drink Steve offered him.

This, though? This looked _bad_. The whole left part of Billy’s face was bloody – it was in his hair, dripping from his chin, and had stained through his shirt. The sleeve of his jean jacket was dark with blood, from where he had probably tried to wipe it off his face.

A thought occurred to Steve, then. “Did you _drive_ here?”

Billy gave another shrug. “How else would I have gotten here? You think I’d _walk_ , looking like this?”

“Billy …” Steve said, pausing with the wet towel inches from his face. “Why didn’t you call me? I could have come and picked you up.”

Billy fiddled with the first aid kit, and didn’t look up. “I didn’t exactly have time to use the phone before I ran out the door.”

None of them said anything else for a while. Steve started cleaning the blood off Billy’s face, and Billy … let him. Deciding to not look a gift horse in the mouth, Steve gently tilted Billy’s head to the side and parted his hair. There was a cut in his scalp, just above his hairline. It wasn’t deep, but it was a couple of inches long, and it was bleeding like hell.

“Head wounds bleed a lot”, Billy mumbled, and Steve realized he’d said that last thing out loud.

“I hate that you know that.”

“ _Everyone_ knows that.”

Steve ignored the jab, and frowned. “I don’t know, Billy. I’m not a doctor. This might need to be stitched up.”

“Lemme see.” Billy stood up on wobbly legs and leaned over the sink, peering into the mirror. He touched the hair around the cut and grimaced, before taking the towel from Steve’s hands and pressing it to the wound. “Nah, it doesn’t need stiches.”

“How do you know?” Steve had to ask. When the only answer he got was a Look, he sighed. “I hate that you know that, too.” He looked at Billy’s bloody shirt. “You want a shower?”

“Yeah, but I better wait until it stops bleeding. I’ll just sit here for a while.” Billy made to sit back down on the toilet, but Steve huffed. He grabbed Billy’s arm with one hand, and a bunch of towels (fancy or not, he didn’t give a shit) with the other, and brought both into the living room. He draped the towels over the corner of the couch that Billy liked to use when he was there, and then pushed Billy down to sit.

“You sure?” Billy said, peering up at Steve (and there was still blood at the corner of his eye). “Your mom won’t be happy if I bleed on her couch.”

“My mom’s not here to care about the furniture”, Steve said, absent-mindedly, while grabbing a blanket and throwing it over Billy’s legs. Not caring in the least if it got blood on it. Billy snorted at that, and pulled the blanket off him.

“I’m not an invalid, Harrington.”

Steve’s fingers itched with the need to _do something_ , and he was just about to ask if Billy wanted breakfast when something else occurred to him. It made him have to fight back a grin. “Do you …” Billy looked up, and Steve had to bite his lip to keep a straight face. “Do you want the cock?”

It made Billy bark out a wet laugh, followed by a grimace and a groan, but then he peered up at Steve and nodded. “ _Yes_ , Steve, I _want the cock_.”

Steve snorted, but went to let Phil out of the laundry room, where he spent the nights (the floor was tiled and easy to clean if Phil made a mess).

“Honestly”, Billy said loudly from the living room. “What kind of question is that? I am _always_ up for your cock, you know that!” The words were teasing, but his voice was still a little shaky. Steve couldn’t help it – he worried.

Even the bird seemed to sense that something was wrong, because he let Steve pick him up without a fuss, and barely flapped his wings when Steve brought him back into the living room and deposited him in Billy’s lap. Some of the tension bled out of Billy as soon as he could stroke one hand – the one not holding the bloody towel to his head – across the feathered body. Phil made a little noise and pecked at Billy’s hand, but then he settled down and let himself be petted.

Steve sat down on the coffee table, close enough that his knees were touching Billy’s, and put one hand on Billy’s knee so he, too, could use a finger to gently touch Phil’s feathers.

Neither one of them spoke for a while, but then Steve took a breath. “What was it this time?”


	6. Monsters/Cryptids/Myths/Urban Legends

“Aaaah!”

Only a month ago, one of the kids screaming in Steve’s living room would have had Steve frantically grabbing at his bat, but now? Now it only made him roll his eyes.

Soon after, Lucas marched into the kitchen, holding his hand against his chest and going straight for the drawer that held the band aids while muttering unhappily. “That bird is evil, I’m telling you. I can’t believe you’re letting it stay here.”

“Well”, Steve mused. “Billy and his cock are kind of a package deal nowadays.”

There was a slight pause before Lucas made a disgusted face, and Steve smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry”, he said. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”

Billy chose that time to walk into the kitchen. “Who’s rubbing off on you?”

“You are”, Steve said and leaned in for a kiss, ignoring Lucas’ gagging noises from the counter. “With all the cock puns.”

Billy lit up at that, and turned to Lucas. When he saw what Lucas was doing – putting a band aid on the back of his hand – he looked thrilled. “Did Phil do that?”

“Yes”, Lucas said between clenched teeth.

“Well, what did you do to provoke him?” Billy arranged his face into a mask of fake concern. “Didn’t anyone tell you that you shouldn’t touch a cock unless the touch is _wanted_?”

Lucas straightened up, blank-faced. “I hate both of you”, he said and walked out of the kitchen.

“Consent is important, you know!” Billy yelled after him, and got a muffled ‘fuck you’ in return that made him snigger.

Billy and Steve went into the living room too, where the kids had set up camp on the floor. It looked like a bomb had went off in there, with hobby materials and cardboard and paint cans littered across every available surface. They had claimed it was for a school project, and Steve had let them in on the promise that they would clean up the mess before leaving. (Experience told him there was a 50-50 chance of that actually happening.)

The kids were all sitting on chairs and on the floor, busy doing whatever it is they were doing. All but Lucas, who was standing at the edge of the couch and glaring at Phil, who was the only one sitting on the couch (and probably the reason why no one else had claimed a spot there).

Steve sighed when he saw it. “Phil!” he said, even though the cock probably didn’t understand him. “You’re not allowed on the couch unsupervised, you know that!” He went to pick him up, but quickly drew his hands back when Phil jumped up and tried to claw him. He glared at the bird (who glared back), and then turned to Billy with his eyebrows raised.

“It’s your cock”, he said, hands on his hips. “Deal with it.”

“That’s not what you said last night”, Billy said under his breath. Not quiet enough not to be heard, though, as several of the kids let out loud groans. Billy ignored them, and picked up an unresisting Phil in his arms and scratched at the bird’s neck with his index finger.

“I don’t get it”, Lucas said, frowning. “He loves you, tolerates Steve, and hates everyone else. _How_?”

Billy preened. “Guess I just have a way with cocks.” More groans, and a snicker from Steve.

“No, but seriously!” Lucas continued and pointed at Phil with the finger with the band aid. “That bird is a bloodthirsty monster and you don’t _see it_ because he’s _nice_ to you. The rest of us are expecting him to turn into a vampire at any point now!”

“That’s bats”, Mike said without looking up.

“Whatever”, Lucas said, impatiently.

“Dude”, Dustin said, shaking his head in disappointment. “I’m with you on the evilness of Phil, but there’s a huge difference between bats and poultry.”

“Yeah”, Billy agreed. “Are you calling Phil a _rat_?”

“No, I’m calling him a menace”, Lucas retorted.

“He takes after Billy”, Max commented, also without looking up. She was adding glitter to whatever she had glued onto a huge piece of paper, and had blue glitter all over her hands, and some smeared on her face.

“Oh so _that’s_ why the stupid thing is so evil.”

“Hey!” Billy said, sharply. “I’ll have you know that Phil is not stupid. He’s _smart_. Like all cocks, they’re very intelligent.”

“Dude”, Dustin said, looking disappointed again. “That’s _owls_.”

“What?”

“Bats are the ones who turn into vampires, owls are the ones who are known for their intelligence. Cocks are just … well, they’re the cocky ones, I guess.”

Max let out a deep breath and stretched, looking down at her glittery creation. “He probably gets that from Billy, too.”

Billy did not look displeased at this. Instead, he smiled down at the bird in his arms and said, “Damn right he does. He takes after his daddy.”

Steve looked heavenwards at that. “Please don’t ever refer to yourself as that ever again.”

Billy only winked at him and wagged his tongue.


	7. Graveyard

Billy was puttering about in Steve’s kitchen, boiling water for pasta and going through the fridge to see if there was anything he could make to go with the noodles. This was not really an unusual situation these days – he spent as much time at his boyfriend’s house as he could – but it was unusual that Steve wasn’t home. His mother had called him twenty minutes ago, from wherever she and Steve’s dad had gone this time, and asked him to pick up a coat that she had left at the drycleaners and forgotten about. It _absolutely_ had to happen today, and they closed in an hour, so Steve had sighed and grabbed his keys, but told Billy to stay and maybe get started on dinner.

It was all very domestic. Billy didn’t want to admit to himself how much he liked it.

He felt at home in the Harrington kitchen, even more than in the one in his own house. Here, he didn’t have to worry about doing something wrong, or using up something they’d need for later. Didn’t have to worry about getting chewed out for some imaginary reason.

It wasn’t like he was a good cook or anything. He had never opened a cook book in his life and he kept to a maximum of five ingredients for everything he did, but. He didn’t hate it. Cooking, that is. Not when he could experiment with it and make something that was actually edible. Not when it reminded him of the times he helped his mom in the kitchen before she left. It was bitter-sweet memories, but they made him feel something. Maybe something good.

He had the radio on – had turned it to a station that occasionally played _good_ music – and the door to the back yard was open. Phil had wandered out into the yard, but Billy wasn’t worried. Last weekend, Steve had roped the kids into putting up chicken wire around the places where Phil would otherwise be able to get out, and he was now free to roam the entirety of Steve’s gigantic back yard – from the pool area to the tree line. Billy didn’t know if cocks could fly, but Phil had never shown any indication of using his wings for something other than smacking people in the face, so he wasn’t worried.

Continuing his quest for ingredients for dinner, he found some crushed tomatoes in a can in a cupboard, and looking through the freezer he found a package of chicken filets. It would do.

It was in poor taste, maybe, considering Phil was, well, _almost_ a chicken. But it was food, and Billy had never been picky about his food. The sight of the frozen chicken filets _did_ make him want to check on Phil, though. So just to make sure he hadn’t somehow escaped, Billy went out in the yard, too.

At first he didn’t see the bird anywhere, but then he saw movement at the edge of the yard – right by the trees, beside the garden shed.

“Hey Phil”, Billy called and started walking over. “What are you doing back there?” Was it weird, to talk out loud to a bird? Billy decided that since no one was around to hear him, he didn’t care either way.

Phil didn’t come when Billy called him – of course he didn’t, he wasn’t a _dog_ – and Billy had to get behind the shed too, before he saw him. The cock was walking around a bunch of sticks and pieces of wood that someone had put in the ground.

No, not sticks. Billy frowned when he saw what they were. Crosses. Badly done crosses, small ones, held together with nails and string. He crouched down to get a better look. There was – or had been – something written on every cross, but it was old and faded now. The only thing he could make out was that one of them said ‘Bubbles’.

He mindlessly reached out to pet Phil, just as Steve’s voice drifted out from the house. “Billy?”

“Yeah”, Billy answered. “Out here.”

He could hear Steve exit the house, and stood up and walked out from behind the shed before Steve could call out for him again.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, a little bewildered.

“Phil walked off”, Billy said and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “Found him in your graveyard back there.”

“Graveyard?” Steve said. “What? … ohhh.”

He walked past Billy and looked down at the crooked crosses there. “Man, I’d almost forgotten these were back here.”

“What are they?” Billy asked and added, to lighten the mood, “Something you wanna tell me? This is where you bury your victims, Harrington?”

Steve gave a huff of laughter, but shook his head. “No, this is where I buried my pets. Or, you know, _technically_ it’s where my nannies buried my pets. My parents didn’t want me touching them once they’d died.”

He pointed to the crosses one by one, and listed them off. “That’s Jerry, my hamster. I had him for a year. I wanted to name him Tom after Tom and Jerry, but Tommy bitched about it, so Jerry it was. That’s Bubbles, a goldfish. I don’t actually think it was a goldfish because he was black and white, but whatever. That’s Waldo. He wasn’t mine – he was a cat that got run over right outside our driveway, and I saw it and wouldn’t stop crying until we had given him a proper burial, apparently. That’s Rat. He was just a rat. Mom almost had a heart attack when I brought him into the kitchen after finding him dead in a mouse trap in the basement. He was the first one I buried.”

He made a face like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite succeed, and exhaled. “So basically, only half of them were really pets. Whatever. I didn’t have a lot of pets when I was a kid.”

After a few seconds of silence, Billy bumped their shoulders and said, “I never had a pet.”

Steve turned to him and smiled, and it was a real smile this time. “Until now. You’ve got Phil, now.”

Billy turned and watched as Phil stuttered about between two of the crosses, and gave a half-grin. “You’re right.” He bent down and picked him up, just as Steve turned and started walking back to the house.

“The water’s boiling, by the way”, Steve threw over his shoulder. “What are we having?”

“Pasta and chicken in tomato sauce”, Billy replied, absent-mindedly stroking Phil’s feathers.

“Chicken?! Are you kidding me? What about Phil?”

“Calm your tits, Harrington, it’s _frozen chicken_. It’s not like we’re having _Phil_ for dinner.”

Billy started following Steve back to the house, but stopped and threw one last glance back at the little cemetery behind the shed. He bent down and pressed his lips to Phil’s neck, and whispered, “Don’t worry. You will never end up here. You’re gonna live forever.”


	8. Complete darkness

Steve woke up, heart in his throat and gasping for breath. Something was wrong.

Had he been dreaming? He didn’t know, he couldn’t remember, he just knew that he was awake now and it was the middle of the night and it was pitch black and _why was it pitch black_? Sure, he always made sure to pull the curtains closed when he went to sleep (because the light from the pool gave him the creeps), but he always slept with a light on – the lamp on the bedside table. But the lamp wasn’t on now. _What was going on?_

He jerked out of bed, but got tangled in his sheets and panicked. He could feel cold sweat break out on his skin, and ripped himself from the sheets with enough force that he crashed to the floor. Something made a sound from the other side of the room – _someone was in here with him!_ – and Steve froze. He stared out into the darkness and held his breath.

There it was again! Something was moving!

Without giving it a second thought, Steve dove under his bed. He fumbled around with his hands until he found what he was looking for, and emerged with his nail bat clutched in his hands. The noise came again, and he threw himself back so his back was to the wall, while staring out into the dark.

No light was coming in through the curtains. He could only barely make out the shape of his bed next to him, the desk, the door that led out to the hallway …

The door was slightly ajar.

Had it been open when he went to bed, or had someone – or some _thing_ – snuck in while he was sleeping?

Slowly, he stood up on shaky legs, ready to swing his nail bat at whoever – or _what_ ever – dared to attack him. Holding his breath, he waited …

… and waited …

… and waited.

There! Movement!

He jumped across the bed and landed hard on the other side of it, raised the bat –

– and got a face full of angry cock. Feathers, wings, claws, the whole deal. Steve dropped the bat in his surprise (and heard it bang against the floor – which would probably leave a mark) and brought up both of his hands to protect himself against the assault. He was simultaneously shocked (sudden bird attack!) and relieved (not a monster, only Phil), and eventually managed to grab the bird and hold him under one arm, the way he’d seen Billy do. He then walked to the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened.

Power outage. Of course.

Phil made an indignant sound from under his arm, but didn’t try to get away. Steve pulled a trembling hand through his hair and laughed somewhat hysterically as the adrenaline left him. He stumbled over to the bed and sat down, and put Phil down on the mattress next to him. Phil did not immediately jump away from him, which he counted as progress.

“How the fuck did you even get up here?” he asked, voice still shaky from the scare. But then he thought about it, and realized that perhaps, he’d forgotten to put Phil in the laundry room before he went to bed. Perhaps, he’d just left him to roam free. And now Phil must have somehow managed to get upstairs, and come looking for Steve.

Or, more likely (since the bird was an asshole), he had been looking to specifically mess with Steve.

“Wouldn’t surprise me if you’d chewed through a cord and caused this whole thing”, Steve muttered, but in that exact moment, the power came back. The overhead light and the bedside lamp both turned on without a sound, but Steve still jumped a bit. After a quick check of the room – which was normal, except for the bat on the floor and the sheets which were no longer on the bed – he threw himself back on the bed and exhaled, and tried to will his heart to resume its normal pace.

After a while, he reached out for his comforter, and pulled it over himself, too tired now to bother with getting up and turning the light off. Phil made a little noise next to him, and when Steve turned his head, Phil was getting comfortable on Steve’s pillow.

“Oh you think you can sleep in my bed, huh?”

Phil just looked at him, before faceplanting into the pillow the way he did when he slept. It made Steve snort in amusement.

Phil had come looking for him when the power went out, after all. Maybe the cock didn’t like the dark, either.

“Alright”, Steve said. “But only for tonight.”

He’d almost fallen back asleep when a thought occurred to him, and he opened one eye and pointed at the sleeping bird. “But don’t tell Billy!”


	9. Scared

The Party (“plus Billy”, as Dustin insisted on adding, still refusing to let Billy join officially) were gathered in the Wheeler basement for game night. But this time, it wasn’t for Dungeons and Dragons. No, this time, it was to break in the Ouija board that they had found at the junk yard.

It was October, after all. The month of Halloween. The nights were getting real dark, now, and it was getting colder out. Sitting in a cozy basement, they weren’t exactly affected by either the dark or the falling temperatures of autumn, but they had turned the lights down low and lit a couple of candles to set the mood.

Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, Max and Steve were all seated around the table where they had set up the board. Steve was rolling his eyes, but had let himself be talked into it, after Billy gave him a pointed look and asked, “You’re not _chicken_ , are you?”

“If I join in, will you shut up with the bird jokes?”

His boyfriend had only grinned in lieu of an answer, which probably meant ‘no’.

While the rest of them set up, Billy and El had plopped down in the couch by the wall, content to be watching.

(“What, you’re not gonna join in?” Steve had asked, to which Billy had laughed and replied:

“Not on your life, Harrington. Me and El, we’re too cool for this shit.” It elicited a couple of loud protests from the rest of the kids, but El smiled sweetly so Billy just leaned back and made himself comfortable with a smug look on his face.)

They had agreed to start off with simple questions, which Will had written down on a piece of paper, as he was the one to read them out loud. If there had been a planchette somewhere at the junk yard, they hadn’t found it, so instead they used a piece of wood that Mike had sawed and whittled into a similar shape (and his fingers held band aids as evidence of his work). Now, they all held their fingers on the piece of wood, and looked at Will in silence as he cleared his throat.

“Spirits … we humbly ask you to answer our questions. Can you hear us?”

They slowly started moving the home-made planchette across the board, as they were supposed to. With their help, it circled the board a couple of times, and eventually settled over ‘yes’.

“It works!”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!”

“This is so cool!”

“Guys, schhhh, next question!”

They all looked at Will again, who had gone a little pale but looked excited nonetheless.

“Okay”, he said, glancing nervously at the paper he’d written. “Okay. Um, what’s your name?”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths as the wooden piece slowly made its way across the board. Will’s voice was breathless as he read the letters out loud. “F … R … J …” He frowned. “’No’ … D … C … P.”

It stopped moving, and they glanced at each other. Lucas was the first one to try to pronounce it. “Frjnod-cee-pee?” He looked doubtful. “Doesn’t sound like a name.”

“Well what did you expect?” Dustin said. “You can’t expect a spirit to have a normal name. It probably just doesn’t use the same language as we do. Or the same alphabet!”

“Then how come it understands ‘yes’ and ‘no’?” Steve said, throwing Dustin a flat look.

Dustin sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. “It’s obviously bilingual, Steve! And besides, it makes sense that it doesn’t have a name like we do, if it’s not from around here.”

“Should we continue?” Will asked.

“Yeah!” Dustin decided, and got a determined glint in his eyes. “Let’s move on to the _real_ questions. Spirit, _what is the meaning of life_?”

Will and Mike started protesting, saying that the question wasn’t on the list. Steve rolled his eyes again and Max elbowed Dustin in the side – but to everyone’s surprise, the piece of wood started moving under their fingers. Lucas spoke up.

“Uh, are you guys feeling this?”

This time, it moved differently from last time. There was no hesitation in the movements – it went straight for one corner of the board, only to change direction and move to another one.

“Are you guys doing this …?” Steve said, frowning, looking at each of the kids in turn. None of them looked back; too busy staring at the home-made planchette which was moving across the board, from corner to corner.

When it got to the last corner, it changed direction and went for the letters. The Party was stunned into silence, and stared at the board, eyes wide. No one dared to take their finger off the wood.

“C …”

A strange chill went through the room, making the occupants shudder.

“ … O …”

The flames on the candles flickered. Someone gasped.

As the piece changed direction again, Steve’s face did something complicated, and he looked across the room – over the heads of the kids at the table – and locked eyes with Billy.

“… C …”

Billy wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips suggestively. As the wooden piece resolutely stopped at the last letter of the word, the Party turned as one to stare (or glare) at Billy in the couch. Billy kept a straight face for all of four seconds, before his face split in a grin and he started cackling, raising his hand in the air. To everyone’s surprise, El – wiping a small tendril of blood from under her nose –turned to return Billy’s high-five.

“’Cock’?” Steve said, an eyebrow raised. “Really?” That made Billy laugh even harder, so El was the one to reply.

“Yes”, she said. “Like Phil!”

As in Phil, Billy’s pet cock. Everyone’s shoulders sagged in relief, realizing that El’s and Billy’s associations of the word was very different.

She smiled brightly. “It was Billy’s idea.”

Steve turned to his boyfriend – who was helplessly gasping for breath now, holding his stomach with tears of mirth in his eyes – and said, deadpan, “You don’t say?”


	10. Angel/Demon/Both/Either

“Why do you always have to be such a _jerk_?”

Max was standing in the middle of Steve’s living room, facing off against Billy. Billy, who was leaning over her with flashing eyes, looking just as pissed off.

“I don’t know, why do you always have to be such a _bitch_?”

The rest of the Party present had found it safer to vacate the living room when the siblings got into it, except for Will – who had to pass both of them to get out, and had chosen to instead push himself up against the bookcase, eyes wide, and try to become invisible – and Steve. Steve, forever the peace keeper, tried to smooth things over.

“Hey guys, why don’t you –“

Both Max and Billy turned towards him as one, and snarled, “Shut up!”

Steve threw up his hands and backed out of the room with an apologetic glance at poor Will, who was trying to blend in with the furniture. He mouthed “You’re on your own”, and hurried out into the hallway where the rest of the Party was waiting. Immediately, the argument in the living room resumed.

“Okay”, Steve said, grimacing. “That went well.”

“What did you _think_ was gonna happen?” Lucas asked, as if Steve was stupid.

“I was _trying_ to come between my boyfriend and first-degree murder”, Steve muttered. “I don’t see _you_ trying to control _your_ girlfriend.”

Lucas actually snorted at that. “Dude, are you saying you think I can control Max?”

That had everyone pause for a second, trying to imagine just that. Mike shook his head, and Dustin actually shivered in discomfort. Steve acquiesced with a nod, “Okay, fair point.”

Max’s voice was reaching shrieking levels by now, and everyone jumped when there was a crash coming from the room. Seconds later, Max came whirling out into the hallway, her face as red as her hair, screeching “You’re the _actual worst_ , you _asshole_!” over her shoulder. The answer was a frustrated yell without words, which she ignored in favor of throwing a glare in Lucas’ direction and growling “We’re leaving!” while heading for the door.

“Yes ma’am”, Lucas said, making a little salute, and hurried after her after giving his friends a pointed stare. Dustin and Mike looked at each other, shrugged, and went after him. Thus, when the door closed after they’d left, Steve was alone in the hallway, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking like he was working up the courage to go back into the living room.

He didn’t have time to do that, though, before Billy stalked out, looking like a living thundercloud. He stalked past his boyfriend without a word, making his way into the kitchen. Hesitantly, Steve followed, and found him leaned over the sink, angrily starting to soak dirty dishes.

“Uh, you okay?”

“She’s a fucking _demon child_ , Harrington!”

Steve approached slowly, tentatively reaching out a hand to put on Billy’s shoulder. Billy deflated a little at that, and he whirled around. “I swear to god she wants me dead!”

“She doesn’t want you dead.”

“She _literally_ said she wants me dead.”

“Heat of the moment”, Steve said, bravely giving Billy’s shoulder a little pat. “We all say things we don’t mean sometimes. You know. We overreact, make something big out of something small, let things get out of hand …”

Billy’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I overreacted?”

Steve froze, his hand an inch above Billy’s shoulder. “Uh”, he said. “I mean, she _did_ just ask you for a ride to the movies this weekend. It’s not … a weird request. You _could_ have just said no.”

“I _did_ say no!”

“You said, and I quote, ‘no way in hell I’m driving you and your ugly-ass boyfriend to the movies just so you can suck face’.”

Billy cocked his head to the side, uncomprehending. “So?”

Steve sighed. “Well, _some_ people –“ (definitely not Steve, oh no) “– would say that was a bit … harsh.”

“Fuck harsh, she knows Neil is home this weekend and if he sees them together – and if he finds out that I willingly drove them! – I’m dead. It’s like I said, the little shitbird is trying to get me killed.”

“She’s not trying to get you killed”, Steve said, finally daring to get closer to wrap his boyfriend up in a hug. “She’s just young and doesn’t think very far ahead. Haven’t you ever wanted to suck face at the movies?”

Billy didn’t hug back, but snorted in amusement and didn’t twist out of Steve’s grip. “I always wanna suck face with _you_ , movie or no movie.”

“Well …” Steve started, but froze. His eyes widened when he remembered. “ _Will_!”

“Aw, shit”, Billy said, and together they hurried back into the living room.

At first, Will was nowhere to be seen, but after Steve called out for him he popped up from behind the coffee table, eyebrows raised in question.

“Listen, kid, I’m sorry if we scared you”, Billy said, at the same time as Steve asked:

“What are you doing under there?”

Will looked a little sheepish, but shrugged one shoulder. “Phil got scared.” Billy winced at that, as if he felt guilty. “He hid under the couch.” At that, Billy hung his head and murmured something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I’m a horrible human being’.

Will bent down again, and had soon managed to coax Phil out from under the couch. He got to his feet, holding the bird in a gentle hold with both of his arms, looking pleased with himself. Sitting down on the couch, he leaned back and put his hands at his sides, letting Phil go if he wanted. The bird didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave though; he jumped down on the cushion, but then laid down next to Will and snuggled up to him.

“Aw. You’re good with cocks”, Billy commented idly.

Will got bright red, and Steve choked on his own spit. “Jesus Christ, Hargrove!”

“What?” Billy said, throwing out his hands. “It’s a pun! He can take a pun, right kid?”

“He can _not_ , he’s a _literal_ innocent baby angel!”

Billy looked at Will, as if going ‘help me out here’, but Will only blushed harder and looked between the two of them. “Um.”

“Great”, Billy said and motioned to the kid. “Now you’re making him uncomfortable.”

“ _I’m_ making him uncomfortable? You’re the one saying he’s good with cocks!”

“He is! Look at him, he’s petting one right now!”

Will stood up sharply at that, jostling Phil who gave a little squeak in protest. “You guys seem … busy. I’m just gonna … go.”

He pointed awkwardly at the hallway, then nodded once to himself and took a deep breath before walking past Billy and Steve, who let him leave without saying another word. When they heard the front door close, they turned to each other. For a couple of seconds, they just stood there, staring. Then Billy raised an eyebrow.

“So … Wanna suck face?”


	11. Kidnapped

_‘We have your bird’_

Billy was shaking, unthinkingly crumbling the note that someone had left for them on the kitchen table. He could hear Steve as he came into the house, struggling with the bags of groceries. Billy’s own bags had been abandoned on the table without care when he spotted the note. Now, he turned his back on them, striding out of the kitchen. “Phil!”

He was met with Steve, who started to ask him a question, but he ignored him. He had other things to worry about. “ _Phil!_ ”

Billy’s family was spending the weekend at some distant relatives out of town, so Billy was spending the weekend at Steve’s house. Steve’s cupboards had been depressingly empty, and the fridge had held a bag of moldy carrots and a bottle of soy sauce. _Only_ carrots and soy sauce. So in preparation for the weekend, they had decided to stock up, so they wouldn’t have to leave the house for boring reasons.

They’d let Phil roam free on the first floor of the Harrington house when they left to get groceries, an hour ago. They’d blocked the stairs with a piece of cardboard, so he wouldn’t be able to get up to the second floor, so by all accounts, he should be somewhere on the first floor of the house.

Only, Phil _wasn’t_ on the first floor of the house.

“Phil!” Billy bellowed again, getting a little frantic in his search, now.

Not in the living room. Not in the study. Not in the weird little guest room that smelled like moth balls. Not in the laundry room, not in the bathroom, not in the den. Phil was _gone_.

Who the _fuck_ had kidnapped Phil?

“ _Phil!_ ”

“ _What_ are you yelling at Phil for?” Steve had gotten rid of the groceries and come up behind him. Billy shoved the wrinkled note into his chest before shouldering past him, going for the front door. “Hey, wait, what –?” Steve read the note. “Billy, _wait_ , where are you going?”

“I’m going out to look for Phil, what do you _think_ I’m doing?”

“Hang on”, Steve said, and grabbed a hold of his arm, stopping him in his path. “I know this handwriting.” That made Billy turn to face him. “This is Dustin’s handwriting.”

Billy stilled. “Dustin?”

“Uh yeah”, Steve said. “I’ve seen him do enough homework, this is his handwriting, for sure.”

Pursing his lips and closing his eyes, Billy took a deep breath. Then another one. Then another. Then he turned and walked outside without a word.

“Wait!” Steve called out after him. “Where are you going _now_?”

Billy didn’t break his stride. He dug through his pockets for the keys to the Camaro, and he was only vaguely aware of Steve rushing after him, fumbling to lock the door after them.

“I’m gonna go kill that kid.”


	12. Pain play

Since Mike claimed that his mom wouldn’t let them bring any pets into her basement (her husband was apparently allergic), and Will’s house was too far out of town, the Party had decided to convene at Dustin’s house for the preparation for this particular campaign. They were busy setting everything up, while Max stood off to the side with a scowl on her face, having been saddled with holding the bird. The bird who had only recently stopped flapping its wings and trying to claw her skin open (there were red scratches on her arms that she got before she managed to calm him down).

“I don’t get why Phil has to be here”, she complained. El reached over and scratched the bird lightly on his head with a finger, and Max huffed. “Also, he likes you _way_ better, El. Here, hold him.” She maneuvered Phil into El’s arms and – as if afraid someone would make her hold him again – backed away a couple of steps.

“He is an integral part of the campaign”, Will said without looking up.

“A cock is an integral part of the campaign?” Max muttered. “Lame.”

“Today, Phil is no mere cock!” Mike exclaimed dramatically and struck a pose. “Today he is Lazarus, the Phoenix of the North!”

“U-huh”, Max said, rolling her eyes. “Still lame.” El giggled at that, but looked apologetic when Mike looked over, betrayed.

“I still say we should have waited for Steve and Billy and asked them if we could borrow Phil”, Lucas said.

“Nah”, Mike said. “Mom sometimes lets grandma take care of Holly for a while when me and Nancy are out, and I heard her say to one of her friends that it’s nice for her and dad to have the house for themselves for a while.” The others looked at him as if he had spoken Greek, and he sighed loudly and rolled his eyes as if he was surrounded by idiots. “It’s the same thing with Steve and Billy. They probably want to be alone at times, too. Grown-ups are like that.”

“Billy’s hardly a grown-up”, Max said.

“Neither is Steve”, Dustin agreed.

“Whatever”, Mike said. “Besides, we wrote them a note. Right, Dustin?”

“Yup. I put it on the kitchen table, there’s no way they could miss it.”

“I still think –“

No one got to hear what Lucas thought, because the door to Dustin’s room slammed open with so much force that the occupants in the room all jumped. Billy was standing in the doorway, seething with anger, but wearing a smile on his face that didn’t bode well for anyone.

“Which one of you little punks kidnapped my cock?”

For a second, no one spoke (or even seemed to draw breath), but then everyone suddenly spoke at the same time.

“We didn’t _kidnap_ him!”

“He’s okay, he’s right here!”

“We figured you and Steve would want the house to yourselves for a while.”

“It’s good for him to get out of the house sometimes, you know!”

“We need him for our campaign! He’s got the most important part!”

“We left a note!”

At that, Billy – who had taken a few menacing steps into the room – turned his narrowed eyes on Dustin, and even Steve – who they now saw was standing behind his boyfriend – spoke up. “You mean this note?” He held up a piece of paper and read aloud what it said. “ _’We have your bird.’_ ”

Everyone turned to Dustin.

“Seriously? _That’s_ what you wrote?”

Dustin took a couple of steps back, holding his hands up as to ward everyone off. “What? What’s wrong with that?”

“It sounds like a ransom note, you idiot!”

“It’s short and effective! ‘We have your bird’. Meaning, ‘he’s okay’, ‘he’s under our care’, ‘you don’t have to worry’ …”

Max elbowed him in the side, making Dustin yelp. “Why didn’t you just _write_ that then, stupid?”

“I was gonna, and _ow_! We were in a hurry!”

Steve, meanwhile, was standing in the middle of the room, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with one hand and holding Billy back with the other. That didn’t help when Mike spoke up from the corner.

“We were doing you a favor, honestly. _We_ need him for our campaign and _he_ needs to get out of the house more often. Besides, it’s not like you guys ever play with him!”

Billy’s creepy grin widened, and Steve – probably sensing what was about to happen – tried to stop it. “Oh no, no no no, _Billy_ –“

“You wanna play with my cock, Wheeler?”

“Well maybe your cock wants to be played with!” That elicited groans from all around the room, and Steve hid his face in his hands. Billy somehow looked angry and thrilled at the same time, and Mike seemed to realize what he’d just said. “No, wait. No! I don’t. _What_? Ew. You know what I mean!”

Billy opened his mouth to reply, but Steve slapped a hand over his mouth and answered in his stead. “We know what you mean. But you still should have asked first! We were worried.”

Mike was doing his best impression of a goldfish, red in the face, but Dustin spoke up from behind the table where they had been setting up their game. “Yeah but, no harm done right? We were just playing!”

Billy stood up straight at that, and his face went blank. Max made an ‘uh-oh’ sound and took a step back, and Steve took his hands off Billy.

“Playing?” Billy’s voice was deceptively calm. Probably why Dustin dared to continue;

“Yeah, do you know what that is? Playing, having _fun_? _Play_? Heard that word before, Hargrove?”

Max looked heavenwards at that, and Lucas grimaced while inching away from the table. Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. “That’s it, you brought this on yourself.”

“What?”

Billy pounced before Dustin got another word out. He got Dustin in a headlock and gave him the noogie of all noogies while Dustin was flailing his arms about and crying out in protest. Billy was just laughing, a harsh sound, as he tortured the younger boy. “What’s _wrong_ , Henderson? I thought we were _playing_! You know, having _fun_ here!”

“ _Ow ow ow ow_ _ow_. You guys, help me!”

Will took a hesitant step forward, but Billy just leveled him with a look and said “No” until he backed away. When Billy let go of Dustin – who slithered out of his grip and held both of his hands to his poor abused scalp – he pointed at Mike.

“Heads up, kid, you’re next.”

Over the following minutes – during which Steve stood silent with his back to the closed door, not letting anyone leave, and El watched calmly from her spot on Dustin’s bed, still holding Phil – the Party learned just why you shouldn’t mess with Billy’s bird … At least not without asking first.


	13. Choking

Billy wouldn’t let any of the kids near Phil for a while after the whole kidnapping-incident (to be fair, the kids didn’t seem too keen on getting close to Billy or Phil, either), but some of what they’d said seemed to have gotten to him. Specifically, the part where Phil _‘shouldn’t be cooped up in Steve’s house all the time’_.

Steve watched in confusion – and fascination – as Billy was trying to attach a leash to Phil, since he’d gotten in his head that Phil would benefit from going on walks.

“He follows you around like a duckling anyway”, Steve said as Phil pecked at Billy’s hands, obviously not liking the piece of string Billy was trying to tie loosely around his body. “You don’t need a leash.”

“I don’t want him to run off on us.”

“ _Us_?” Steve said. “You think I’m going to go with you while you walk around with a cock on a leash in _my neighborhood_?”

Billy looked up at him through his lashes, from where he was crouched on the floor. “I’ll make it worth your while”, he said, leering.

And, well. Steve had an inkling of what that meant, and he was only human. How could he say no to that? “Fine. But I’m telling you, you don’t need the leash. If he runs off, we’ll just catch him.”

“’Just catch him’, hmm?” Billy said, leveling him with a look. “Do you remember that first night?” And oh, yeah. Steve remembered. Remembered not being able to catch Phil for half the night, even when he was trapped on the first floor of Steve’s house. Slippery little bugger, that Phil.

“Okay”, he conceded. “You may have a point.”

But Billy just grinned, throwing the string to the side. “Nope. No leash. You said it yourself – if he runs off, we’ll just catch him. Let’s go.” And he headed to the front door, Phil following behind him and ignoring Steve completely.

Steve felt as if he had just made a mistake. “Wait … Right now?”

***

It wasn’t actually that bad, walking around the neighborhood with Billy and Phil. It was the afternoon, so most people were still at work, and not many people were out to see the two teens out on a walk with a cock in tow. And Phil behaved perfectly. He kept close to them both, and explored all the new things he discovered, that Steve’s backyard just didn’t have; a mailbox, a discarded bike, a forgotten inflatable pool someone had left by the side of the road …

A couple of people saw them – George, Steve’s elderly neighbor, was out walking his dog, and Mrs Fredricksen was raking her yard when Phil walked up to her and peered at her over a bunch of dead leaves – and while they both threw the boys some weird looks, none of them really commented past the normal polite greetings and small-talk. (Steve personally thought that a pet cock was the _least_ strange thing to happen in Hawkins, but was grateful for the lack of questions nonetheless.) It was a nice, uneventful afternoon stroll.

But then suddenly, as they rounded a corner, Billy stiffened at his side. At first, Steve thought something had happened to Phil, but when he looked down, Phil was right there, at Billy’s feet. Looking up, he spotted the reason why Billy had stopped.

Karen Wheeler was walking towards them, steering an empty stroller with one hand and holding her youngest daughter’s hand in the other. She had a smile on her face and let go of the stroller momentarily so she could wave at them.

“Shit”, Billy murmured under his breath, but plastered a smile – achingly fake, but Steve only knew that because he was subjected to Billy’s _real_ smiles on the daily – onto his face and waved back.

Mrs Wheeler stopped a couple of steps in front of them.

“Hello, boys.”

“Hello Mrs Wheeler”, they replied, almost in unison, making her laugh.

“None of that, now. Call me Karen, we’ve been through this.” She leaned forward as if she was telling them a secret, and while she was smiling at them both, she was definitely leaning more towards Billy. Steve plastered on his own fake smile.

“Out for a walk?” he said, a little too loudly, when Mrs Wheeler wouldn’t stop batting her eyelashes at Billy.

She seemed a little startled, but nodded. Gestured towards her daughter and said, “Yes, well, it’s a nice day and I couldn’t keep Holly cooped out in the house all day.”

“Same thing with Phil here”, Steve said, keeping Mrs Wheeler’s attention on him. It proved to be a miscalculation though, because when she looked down and saw Phil, she – after the initial confusion – blushed a little and glanced up at Billy.

“A … cock?”

Steve held his breath, prepared for one of Billy’s many cock puns, but was surprised when his boyfriend kept quiet at his side. When he glanced to the side, Billy was just nodding, tight-lipped.

“Yeah”, Steve said. “Billy f–, uh … the kids found him at the junk yard and we’ve been keeping him at my … in my back yard for a while, now. His name is Phil.”

Mrs Wheeler looked like she wanted to fan herself, and all of her attention was on Billy, now. “That’s a … mighty fine … cock. You’ve got there.”

“M-hm”, Billy said, and seemed to steel himself. “Thanks.”

Mrs Wheeler let her eyes roam over him in a not-at-all discreet fashion, and Steve’s mouth fell open in outrage. She was trying to _flirt_ with Billy!

And not only was she trying to flirt with Billy – a guy who was the same age as Nancy! – she was trying to flirt with him _in front of Steve_ , his _boyfriend_.

Okay, so … hardly anyone _knew_ that Steve was Billy’s boyfriend. But _still_. It was the principle of the matter.

Steve puffed himself up in preparation for a scathing comment, but just when he was about to say something that he wouldn’t be able to take back, he was interrupted by a loud squawk.

While they had all been busy talking, Holly had bent down and was now trying to pick Phil up. Only, she had managed to pick him up by the neck, clumsily choking him. Billy crouched down at the same time as Mrs Wheeler reached for her daughter, and together they managed to pry the little girl’s fingers off the poor bird. Holly protested, but Mrs Wheeler picked her up and scolded her for being so careless. Billy, meanwhile, scooped Phil up in his arms and turned away slightly, shielding him from the Wheelers with his body while running his hand over Phil’s back protectively.

“I’m so sorry”, Mrs Wheeler said and hefted Holly onto her hip. “She didn’t mean it, and I’ll have a talk with her about approaching people’s pets without asking.” Billy just gave her a tight smile in return, and as she didn’t even look in Steve’s direction, Steve didn’t even bother to wipe the frown off his face.

The silence drew out, too long to be anything but awkward, until Mrs Wheeler cleared her throat. Billy shifted his feet where he was standing.

“Well”, Steve said. “We’re gonna ...” He gestured towards the road ahead of them. “Have a good day now.”

“Of course. Yes. You too.” She put a protesting Holly in the stroller, but when Billy and Steve went to pass her, she reached out to touch Billy’s arm. He halted in his steps. “Let me know if you boys ever need help …” She lowered her voice and looked Billy straight in the eye. “… you know, with your … cock.”

“ _Wow_ , will you look at the time!” Steve exclaimed, not at all subtle. “We better get going. Bye Mrs Wheeler. Give our best to _Mr_ Wheeler. Tell Nancy and Mike we said hi!”

He then grabbed onto Billy’s arm and steered him away. Billy was still holding Phil, and he was unusually quiet as he let Steve manhandle him down the road until they made another turn and were sure to be out of Mrs Wheeler’s sight. Not until then did Steve let go of his arm. But he still walked close enough that their shoulders were touching.

“You okay?” Billy asked after a while, when they had wordlessly turned back towards Steve’s house.

“Did you _hear_ that?!” Steve exploded, and then made a face and made his voice whiny and breathless. “ _’Let me know if you need help with your cock!_ ’ Wow. She really went there, didn’t she? Just, _wow_. No thank you, lady, we don’t need your _help_.”

Billy was silent for a beat longer, but Steve could see him relaxing out of the corner of his eye. There was even a small smile growing on his face. A _real_ one, this time. “It sounds like someone’s jealous, Harrington.”

Steve didn’t even deny it. Instead, he threw a possessive arm around Billy’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Damn right I am. She’s not getting her dirty paws on _your cock_!”

That made Billy snort out a laugh. “You know, at this point I think we can call Phil _ours_. I mean, he _does_ live at your place. It’s a case of shared custody at this point, at _least_.”

“That’s true”, Steve said, nodding. Then he looked Billy in the eye. “But that’s not the cock I was talking about.”

Billy rolled his eyes and licked his lips, and Steve couldn’t help himself. He really couldn’t. He winked, and said, “But we can call _that one_ ours as well. I mean, it at least partly belongs to me, by now …”

Billy blushed and said nothing. Phil, though, gave a squawk. Steve imagined it was a squawk of agreement.


	14. One of the seven deadly sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the seven deadly sins: GLUTTONY

Steve liked Phil. Really, he did. What was originally going to be an arrangement for one night had turned into weeks, and Phil was roaming around the house freely by now (except for the weekend when Steve’s parents got home, then he had been forced to keep him in the basement and sneak down to feed him and take care of him – Phil hadn’t appreciated that, and neither had Steve, honestly). Steve actually liked having him there. In the evenings when Billy couldn’t come over, Steve usually watched TV with Phil next to him on the couch. Sometimes, he brought him with him to the second floor when he went to bed – he had discovered that he slept better if Phil was in the room, because then he could blame all strange sounds he heard on the bird.

So they were getting used to each other. One morning, Steve had even put Phil on the counter while he was cooking breakfast, until he realized that he was making an _omelet_ , at which point he’d felt so bad that he had to throw the whole thing in the trash.

In short: Phil was okay to share the house with. Which was weird in itself, because a cock wasn’t a very common animal to keep as a pet. Not like a cat, or a dog, or a guinea pig. But no one was really around to judge, so yes, Steve had to admit that he liked having Phil around.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t, at times, feel something not unlike jealousy at the bird. Times like these, for example.

“How’s my _favorite boy_?”

Billy’s smile was wide when Steve opened the door, and Steve had just smiled back and started replying “Fine, thanks, how are you doing?” when Billy went past him and looked around the hallway expectantly. Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh. You meant Phil.”

“Yeah”, Billy said as if that should have been obvious, while shrugging out of his jacket. “Where is he?”

Steve sighed and tried to tamper down on the urge to go and make chicken noodle soup … from scratch. “I don’t know. I was just snoozing in front of the TV, waiting for you. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

Billy gave a tight little smile and went into the living room to look for the bird. He’d been a bit over-protective since the _ransom note incident_ (“just a misunderstanding!” as Dustin kept telling it, which Billy refused to believe), and liked to make sure that Phil was okay, when he was around. He wasn’t worried, per se, he just … didn’t relax fully until he’d seen Phil.

Steve wasn’t jealous of a bird. He _wasn’t_.

It was easier to not be jealous when he concentrated on the fact that his boyfriend was actually kinda cute, caring so much about a random feathered menace. Case in point; how he now walked across the hallway and into the kitchen, and then further into the house, checking the bathroom and laundry room too. “Hey, do you think he could have made it to the second floor?”

“Not likely”, Steve said, but he didn’t sound too sure. (He still hadn’t told Billy about that time when Phil had somehow managed to get up the stairs by himself at night and scared the crap out of Steve.)

“Where _is_ he then? He should – _hah_!” Billy’s voice cut off, and then he started laughing. By the time Steve found him, standing in front of door to the walk in closet, he was holding his stomach and his whole face was lit up with glee.

“What’s going on?”

“Did you … _hahaha_ … did you leave the closet door open this morning?” Billy asked, and stepped aside to show Steve the scene.

And Steve burst into laughter too. Because the walk in closet was where Steve had decided to store the bag of chicken feed – out of pure laziness, because he didn’t want to have to go down to the basement or up to his room every time he had to feed the bird – and now Phil the cock was lying on the bag, looking fatter than ever; clearly in a food coma.

Because the bag of chicken feed? Was open. There were grains scattered all over the floor, and it was quite obvious that Phil had gone a little crazy there.

He wasn’t crazy now, though. The cock was lying half on the bag, half on a pile of spilled chicken feed, and he only opened his eyes briefly and looked up at the interruption, before closing them again. And faceplanting, as he did when he slept. Right into the pile of chicken feed.

Steve lost his shit.


	15. Inspired by a horror movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a horror movie: THE FLY

“Okay, so. Max and an orange tabby cat.”

Dustin and Will were in the backseat of Steve’s car and – having seen “The Fly” just the night before (and they had Jonathan’s movie taste to thank for that) – were deep into a discussion about the worst possible combination of human and animal hybrids.

“That would be _way_ dangerous. Imagine if Max had claws and fangs!”

The two boys were silent for a second as they considered this, and Dustin shuddered. Steve, in the front seat, rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. It was easier, and more entertaining, to let the discussion proceed – especially when he glanced over at Billy, who was sitting next to him in the passenger seat, and saw him nodding in silent agreement, looking suitably freaked-out at the thought.

“Okay”, Will said. “Chief Hopper and a walrus?”

Dustin laughed. “Imagine him with those teeth, wearing his uniform still!”

Steve did, and had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing too. Next to him, Billy pressed a fist to his mouth, obviously having the same problem as Steve.

“What about … Mike and a vulture?”

“That’s no fun”, Billy interjected from the passenger seat. “He’d just look the same.”

Dustin tried to look offended on his friend’s behalf, but couldn’t help snorting out a laugh. Will hid his smiling mouth behind his hands and looked out the window.

“What about you guys then!” Dustin said, excited enough that he leaned forward and grabbed onto both Steve’s and Billy’s seat. “Steve and … uuh …”

“A puppy!” Will exclaimed from his seat.

“Same thing”, Billy said and threw an uncharacteristically soft smile Steve’s way, that the kids didn’t see. “One hundred percent the same. Only with a tail.”

Dustin regarded Steve from the side, and eventually made a face and nodded. “Yeah, I can see it.” Then he turned to Billy with a devious glint in his eyes. “How about … you and _Phil_?”

If he was expecting to rile Billy up, he was sorely disappointed. Billy threw his head back and barked out a laugh, and even Steve had to let out a manly giggle. It was – unfortunately – too easy to imagine.

Emboldened by the lack of violence or threats, Dustin leaned back in his seat and raised his eyebrows at Will, indicating the older teens in the front seat. “If he was half Phil, what would his name be? Philly?”

Will laughed again. “No, that sounds dumb. Hargrove and Phil Cockins … Har…ins? Harins?”

“Harcock?” Steve suggested. He didn’t look away from the road, but could still see Billy’s grin widen in the corner of his eye.

“What was that about a _hard cock_ , Harrington?”

Without looking, Steve threw an arm out to slap at his boyfriend. Said boyfriend just laughed at him, grabbed his hand and licked a wet stripe up his palm.

“Ugh, gross”, Steve said and yanked his hand back to put it back on the steering wheel, as Dustin made gagging noises from the backseat.

“What about human/human hybrids?” Will asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, a mix between two people?”

“Are you talking about human children?” Billy drawled, twisting in his seat to look back at the boys, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “You know, how children are _actually_ a mix between two people …?”

“No”, Will giggled, not at all offended at Billy’s sarcasm. “Like, for example, if you and Steve got stuck together?”

The car got quiet as everyone pondered this. After a couple of seconds Billy drew breath – probably to say something very _very_ inappropriate – so Steve hurried to speak over him. “Then we would be called Stilly, and that’s even worse. _No thank you_.”

“That would be kinda awesome though”, Dustin said, surprising just about everyone.

“What?”

“Like, Billy’s brawling skills with your bravery? That would be one hell of a fighter!”

Billy harrumphed, but didn’t speak, and Steve had to fight back a grin.

“Harringrove”, Will said. “Would be their name.”

“Yeah!” Dustin said, full of excitement again. “Definitely a fighter, right?”

“Yes, definitely.”

While the younger boys started discussing personality traits of this made-up warrior, Steve braved a look over at Billy. Billy was looking out the window, but there was a little smile on his face as he listened in. When he saw that Steve was watching him, he slowly put his hand on the side of the seat – close enough that when Steve went to shift gears, their fingers touched.

Steve had to smile, too.


	16. Possession

“Goddamnit!”

Steve didn’t even look up; just shouted his reply. “Language!”

There was some grumbling coming from the den, but no more curses for the time being. Steve turned his attention back to the card house he was trying to build on the coffee table. He was _just_ putting the last two cards on top, tongue between his teeth in concentration, when there was another – louder – “God _damnit_!” coming from the other room. Steve flinched, and only _barely_ avoided ruining his card house. He let out a silent sigh of relief when it remained upright.

Which was of course when Billy – who had been sitting silent in the armchair for the last twenty minutes, reading one of the leather-bound books from the Harrington library – threw his book to the floor, loudly. He shot out of the chair, bellowing “ _What?!_ ” and startled Steve so bad that he flinched, managing to nudge the house of cards with an elbow and thus reducing it to the equivalent to card rubble.

“Billy! Come in here and take care of your cock!”

Billy threw a brief apologetic look at Steve’s sad pile of cards before his face hardened and he turned to the doorway. “I’m taking care of my cock every day, thanks! Not that it’s any of your business.”

A muffled “Son of a bitch” and random protests were heard from the den, but drowned in the noise of Max stomping across the hallway and appearing in the doorway, yelling, “You are _disgusting_! Now will you come and take care of Phil, he’s ruining our game! He keeps picking up the pieces!”

“What are you playing?” Steve asked, randomly.

“Monopoly”, she answered. “Or we _would_ , if Phil didn’t try to eat all the houses and hotels!”

Billy looked smug at that. “That’s my good boy, fighting capitalism.”

That wasn’t what Max wanted to hear though. She stomped her foot on the threshold. “Just come and pick up your bird!”

“He’s not _my_ bird!” Billy shouted after her when she whirled around and disappeared from view.

“Then whose bird is it, Billy?! Who the fuck brought him home?”

”Phil is not a _possession_ , Phil is a _free cock_. Also, _language, shitbird_!” But he nonetheless rolled his eyes and went to follow her. Before he left the room, though, he stopped and looked back at Steve, who was still sitting in front of the coffee table surrounded by the remains of his card house.

“Speaking of freeing cocks”, Billy said, wagging his eyebrows and giving Steve’s pants a pointed look. “I’m gonna free yours and apologize for _that_ –“ He nodded at the former card house. “– when the brats are gone.”


	17. Teeth

“Did you know that swans have teeth?”

“No”, Billy said, without infliction. “I did not know that swans have teeth.”

He was really tired, he was really hungover, and he really _really_ wanted some peace and quiet right about now, so he’d decided to spend his Sunday at Steve’s house. (Okay, he probably would have spent his Sunday there anyway, hangover or no hangover, but he’d come over especially early today, just to avoid having to interact with his so-called family.)

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who’d planned on spending his Sunday at Steve’s house.

Half of Hawkins’ population under the age of 15 was at the Harrington house, it seemed like. Okay, so maybe it was just Max and her loser friends, but they sure made enough noise to pass for 60 or so people. Or maybe that was just Billy’s hangover talking. (Or the mean little men with the sledgehammers who lived in his head now, beating his brain into pulp.)

Steve had taken one look at the way he winced at a particularly jarring shriek from Max, before he dragged him into the den and deposited him in the couch there, pulling a blanket over him and snickering when Billy tried to swat his hands away. He’d then left, only to come back with a glass of water and two Ibuprofen.

“Oh my god I love you”, Billy had said, taken the pills and then collapsed, face down on the couch, enjoying the way Steve’s fingers carded through his hair for a second before he left again to – no doubt – entertain his younger guests.

Billy had snoozed for a while, thoroughly enjoying being able to sprawl out in a couch without the threat of being suddenly yanked out of it, and woke up some time later, mouth dry, to the feeling of not being alone. He’d looked up, blearily, and been face to face with El, who’d been leaning down over him.

“Hi”, she’d said.

“Uh-huh”, Billy had agreed. That was apparently enough of a greeting (Billy was very grateful), because El sat down on the floor in front of the couch, with a big book in her lap.

It was some kind of Encyclopedia, from the looks of it. Billy wasn’t sure she’d be able to understand the text in that book, but – Billy was also too hungover to care. He’d managed to get the arm that had been trapped under his body out, and now let it hang down on the side of the couch, before closing his eyes again.

Until his rest was interrupted.

“An ostrich’s eyes are bigger than its brain.”

Billy blinked his eyes open. They felt bigger than his brain, too. “No shit.”

No other comment was forthcoming, so he closed his eyes again. A couple of minutes passed.

“Phil is a dinosaur.”

Billy groaned. “Yeah?”

“M-hm. Chicken are de… de-scen-dants … of the dinosaurs.”

Billy nodded, face still smushed into a pillow. “Makes sense.” His voice was raspy. “If he was bigger he’d eat us all.”

That elicited a giggle from El, and Billy tried smiling at her. Keyword: tried. As in, at least he made an effort.

She wasn’t actually bad company. She sat quietly, reading her book, and her voice – when she said something – was soft and didn’t make him want to die. He tried to imagine Max in a similar situation, and the mere thought of her loud screeching made his head hurt. He was lucky it was El who had sought him out, instead of any of the other brats.

At times, she spoke up about some random bird fact, and Billy nodded along and dozed and let the pills work their magic.

And then.

“Did you know that swans have teeth?”

“No”, he said, only half-awake, “I did not know that swans have teeth.”

“Swans have _teeth_?” a loud voice said from the doorway, interrupting the calm. “No way! Says who?”

If Billy hadn’t already had his face buried in the pillow, he would have tried smothering himself with it. As it was, he turned his head so his groan was muffled by it, before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes. Dustin had plopped down next to El and taken the book from her, and was now studying the page she’d been reading from.

“Huh!” he said. “I don’t think they’re really teeth, though. Maybe some kind of protrusions? Bone, or …?”

His voice was grating on Billy’s nerves – and not only because of the hangover; Dustin’s voice _usually_ grated on Billy’s nerves. It wasn’t unusual for Billy to want to strangle the little shit, but _now_? Now he was actually considering it.

Happily unaware of his impending doom, Dustin chatted away. “I mean, do they have milk teeth like humans? Do baby swans lose their teeth? The book says nothing about this!” He shook the book a little, as if sorely disappointed by its lack of answers. Billy wanted to smash the little shit’s head in with the book. It was heavy enough. El giggled and looked at him, and Billy swore she knew what he was thinking because she shook her head slightly.

Dustin didn’t notice. Instead his face lit up and he turned around to face Billy. “Hey, do cocks have teeth?”

Too hungover to even come up with an innuendo, even though the opportunity was basically being handed to him on a silver platter, Billy shrugged. “Dunno.” Then inspiration struck. “Why don’t you go and find out?” He rose up on his elbows and tried to make his face look less murderous. Eyebrows raised in encouragement and everything.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, kid. Go ahead. Check it out. Phil is out there somewhere. You have my permission. Let us know what you find out.” Or not. Just _go away_.

Dustin bounded up from the floor with a wide smile, gave the book back to El, and all but ran out of the room. Silence returned. Peace descended on them again. And as if El knew what he was thinking, she gave a knowing smile and settled back down with her back to the couch, going back to her book. Billy ruffled her curls a little and then closed his eyes again.

He had almost gone back asleep when a ruckus could be heard from the other room.

“Ow, ow, ow-ow-ow, help! Get him off me, get him _off me_!”

Billy gave a contended little sigh. All was right with the world.

“Some chicken eat meat.”

Billy smiled. “Good for them.”


	18. Shackled/Chained/Cuffed/Leashed/Restrained

Most of the time, Jim Hopper was happy to be the Chief of Police in Hawkins, Indiana. At least if one didn’t count the monsters. It was a quaint little town with a bunch of good people in it (and a couple of rotten ones, but every town had those and at least here, he could keep an eye on them), and – again, barring monsters – there wasn’t a whole lot of bad shit going on.

So when Johnson from the farm ten minutes West of Hawkins called him just before he was about to clock out, telling him he’d caught a trespasser and trapped him in his hen house, Hopper sighed, but got in his car and drove out there to take a look. It was the least he could do, and as long as it wasn’t flower-faced creatures from another dimension, he was prepared for anything.

Or so he thought.

When arriving at the farm, Johnson met him down on the dirt road, holding a rifle lazily over one shoulder. Hopper, who has inquired about it before and knew that he had a license for it, didn’t comment, but raised his eyebrows pointedly.

“Trespasser”, Johnson just said, and Hopper sighed. He supposed he should be grateful that no one had been shot.

He was shown to the chicken coop, and right outside it was Mrs Johnson, Gladys. She was guarding the trespasser, holding her own rifle and smiling brightly when she saw Hopper.

Hopper greeted her, and then almost choked on air when he saw just who was sitting in the chicken coop, leaning back against the hen house.

“Steve.”

Steve Harrington looked up from where he had been resting his head on his knees, and his face split in a grin. A very _drunk_ grin.

“Heeeey Hop!”

Gladys patted Hopper on the shoulder as she passed him. “He’s all yours, Jim. Have fun.” Then she took her husband by the arm and steered him up to the house.

Steve, meanwhile, had tried standing up. He had to hold on to the chicken wire surrounding the coop and he was still swaying as if a strong wind could blow him over. But he looked goofy and happy and it was just about as far from a monster from another dimension that you could get, so Hopper counted it as a win.

Still, he tried to sound stern when he opened the door to the coop and crossed his arms over his chest. “And just what do you think you’re doing, breaking into Hank Johnson’s hen house?”

“Um”, Steve said and visibly tried to think. “’Cause there are hens here?” He motioned to the – empty – coop; apparently all the hens were safely inside.

“Uh-huh” Hopper said and took a step back, allowing Steve to stumble out of there. “And why did you feel the sudden need to go see the hens, Steve?”

Steve leaned in and slurred, in what he probably thought was a whisper, “I was gonna steal one!” Then he widened his eyes and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god. Are you gonna arrest me?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“No. Are you gonna cuff me?”

“I don’t know, Steve. Are you gonna run?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t cuff you. Just come quietly.”

Steve nodded seriously. “Quiet. I can do that. I’m like a ninja.” He then took one step forward, and promptly stumbled over air and fell over, pulling a rake and a shovel down with him.

Hopper ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath before bending down and helping him up. “Okay. Ninja, sure. Tell me, _why_ would a ninja steal a hen?”

“For Billy!” Steve said and made a face as if this should be obvious.

“Of course”, Hopper muttered, taking a hold of Steve and leading him back towards his car. “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but … What does Billy need a hen for?”

Steve wheezed out a laugh at that, bending forward in mirth and almost faceplanting again until Hopper grabbed a hold of him and pulled him up. “Noooo”, Steve said. “Not for Billy, silly!” He then repeated ‘Billy, silly’ a couple of more times under his breath, as if tasting the words, until Hopper snapped his fingers in front of his face. “For Billy’s cock!”

Hopper froze. “What?”

“Billy’s cock!”

Hopper gave a world-weary sigh and wished, momentarily, for monsters. “I _knew_ I was going to regret it. I _knew it_. I _had_ to ask.”

“It’s lonely, Hop”, Steve continued, face now a mask of drunken concern. “Billy’s cock. It’s lonely. Billy said so.”

“Oh god.”

Hopper put Steve in the passenger seat of the car and fastened his seat belt while Steve told him everything. (Hopper seriously hoped that the kid wouldn’t ever commit a _real_ crime – he would never be able to keep his mouth shut for long enough to get a lawyer.)

“And then we got drunk – I mean, we … uh … _didn’t_ get drunk, like _at all_ , because … that’s not … legal … And then he dared me to finish the rest of the bottle and then _I_ dared _him_ to streak into the neighbor’s yard and then he dared me to wear his cock as a hat and then I dared him to make me cupcakes and wear an apron – like, _only_ an apron, Hop – and he said that he’d only do that if I stole a hen, because Phil is lonely.”

Steve quieted, probably because he needed to draw breath, and Hopper got in the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. “Who’s Phil?”

“Billy’s cock.”

Hopper closed his eyes and took a calming breath. “I’m sorry I asked.”


	19. Dangerous

Hopper was sitting in his car, parked on the side of the road, enjoying a donut and a lukewarm coffee from a Styrofoam cup. Officially, he was out here to make sure no one was speeding. Unofficially, he just wanted to eat his donut without Flo giving him the evil eye, and maybe doze for a bit after. For now, he just enjoyed his treat and let his mind wander.

Yesterday, after the _drunken attempted hen-stealing incident_ , Hopper had let Steve off with a warning (and he fully planned on giving it to him again, as he wasn’t quite sure the kid would remember it, otherwise), and dropped him off at his house. Made sure he got inside and even waved back when Steve turned around and gave him a big grin and a wave before going inside.

Hopper had then shook his head in exasperation and gone home.

At least it had been nothing worse than a drunk teen. It could have been worse. Could have been monsters, or government agents, or corrupt politicians. Drunk teens, he could handle.

Speaking of.

He heard the car before he saw it, and groaned, because he recognized it by sound alone. By the time the blue Camaro sped past him, he’d already crammed the rest of his donut into his mouth and poured the coffee out through the window, and was starting the car.

Hargrove, shockingly, wasn’t actually speeding this time. He _was_ swerving all over the road, though, and Hopper seriously had to sit these kids down and have a talk with them about the merits of waiting until the weekend to get drunk. Drunk driving was _dangerous_.

He caught up to the Camaro in no time, just in time to watch it almost slide into a ditch, before veering sharply back onto the road. He turned the sirens and lights on for a second, and eased off the gas while he waited for Hargrove to drive off to the side.

Hargrove did, and Hopper slowed down behind him. Once both cars had stopped, he got out of his car and marched up to the Camaro. Too late, his mind reminded him of the time when he was young and got pulled over by Officer Olsen while he had Martha Stevens in the passenger seat – Martha had gotten a little handsy and, well, Hopper had been young and not watching the road as much as he perhaps should have.

Hopper was _also_ reminded of just yesterday, when Steve – who was, apparently, going steady with Hargrove because that’s what kids were doing these days, he supposed – wouldn’t stop waxing poetically about _‘Billy’s cock’_.

He faltered in his step. Suddenly, he was very _very_ afraid that he would see Steve in the passenger seat, and have to deal with the _knowledge_ of what those kids had been up to.

Taking a steadying breath, he drew himself up. He had faced _monsters_. He could do this.

With a gruff clearing of his throat, he walked up to the driver’s side. Knocked on the window. Held his breath as Hargrove – because it was in deed Hargrove (he had never seen anyone else drive that car) – rolled down the window.

“Hey, Chief.”

“Hargrove”, Hopper murmured and finally dared to look into the car. Which was empty! Hallelujah, there was no one in the passenger seat and – after glancing back – no one in the back seat either. Encouraged by this, he continued. “Have you been drinking?”

Hargrove winked at him. “Not _today_.”

And, fine, the boy didn’t actually seem drunk. “You were all over the road back there. What’s up with that, then?”

“Oh”, the kid said, eyes lighting up as he reached for something on the dashboard on the other side of the car. Hopper couldn’t see what it was, and his training had him reaching for his gun …

… until Hargrove was back in his seat, holding a _squirming, feathery nightmare_ who was flapping its wings all over the place while obviously trying to escape and attack.

Hopper jumped back, wide-eyed, and couldn’t help the squeak that escaped from his throat. Hopefully it was drowned out by the sounds the creature was making. “What the _hell_ is that?”

“It’s my cock!” Billy said, smiling even though he was struggling to hold the bird still. “His name is Phil!”

And oh. _Ooooooooh._

It made sense, in a way that it really _really_ didn’t, but now at least Hopper could rest easy knowing that Steve hadn’t been talking about his boyfriend’s … _privates_ … yesterday. But instead, his boyfriend’s … rooster?

Who was – obviously, in retrospect – the reason why Steve had broken into the chicken coop yesterday.

“He’s been going a bit stir crazy lately”, Billy continued, oblivious to Hopper’s thoughts. “So I figured I’d take him out for a drive. Show him the town.” At this, he sighed and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Not that there’s much to see.”

The bird had calmed down, but Hopper stayed where he was, a couple of steps away. He wasn’t overly fond of birds. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yeah, well. Maybe you should let him sit on the seat instead of on the dashboard from now on. And keep your eyes on the road.”

Hargrove, knowing very well when he was given a free pass, put the bird on the seat next to him (thankfully out of Hopper’s sight) and gave a lazy salute. “Done.”

“Now, get out of here”, Hopper said and waved a hand towards the open road ahead. “Don’t drive into a ditch.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Chief!”

The Camaro sped off, and Hopper stood there for a minute, watching it disappear in the distance.

Drunk kids. Kids with pet cocks. Jesus, some days he almost preferred the monsters.


	20. Scars

“You’re spoiling him”, Billy said from the doorway.

Steve, who was crouching on the floor of the kitchen, ignored him in favor of holding out another handful of chicken feed. Phil wasted no time going to town on the treats. Smiling, Steve turned to Billy. “You’re just mad ‘cause he likes me now.”

“He likes you because you’re _spoiling_ him.”

Steve’s smile got wider, more knowing. “ _You_ like me because I spoil _you_.” When Billy opened his mouth to protest, Steve nodded to the refrigerator. “Speaking of, there’s food for you in the fridge.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Your favorite.”

Billy froze, mouth half open. Eyes narrowing, he drew himself up and walked over to the fridge – with as much dignity as he could muster. Almost too quietly to be heard, he muttered, “That’s not the _only_ reason.”

“What was that?” Steve was looking way too smug, so Billy hid behind the fridge door.

“Nothing.”

“No, what did you sa–? _Ah_!”

Apparently Steve’s hand had been emptied of chicken feed, so Phil – impatient and still hungry – had tried to get his attention. Only, he did so by flapping his wings and trying to jump up on Steve’s hand. Phil’s claws were sharp. Steve, already off-balance since he was sitting on his haunches and twisting to be able to look at Billy, snatched his hand back and lost his balance. He fell back on his butt, and it would have been funny if it wasn’t for the way the back of his head smacked against the set of kitchen drawers – and the handles with the sharp edges – making him give out a cry of pain.

That had Billy yank his head out of the fridge, and in a second he was on his knees next to Steve, brow furrowed in concern and hands roaming over Steve to see where he was hurt.

“Shit. You okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but when Steve’s hand went up to rub the back of his head, he slapped it away and examined the spot himself. He drew in a sharp breath between his teeth when his fingers came away red.

“Okay”, he said, holding up a finger in front of Steve’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Oww”, Steve complained, and when he didn’t reply immediately answer Billy grabbed his face none too-gently and stared into his eyes, making Steve frown and rip out of his grip with a grimace. “You ass, I’m not concussed!”

“Then how many fingers, Stevie?” Billy asked again, voice soft, shoving his finger back in Steve’s face.

“One.”

“Okay. Okay.” Billy nodded to himself. “Can you stand up?”

“ _Yes_ I can stand up!”

Apparently not trusting his boyfriend fully, Billy grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, and if Steve stumbled a bit – _‘I just didn’t expect it, is all’_ – then he said nothing about it. They walked together into the bathroom where Billy told Steve to sit down on the toilet, and went straight for the little first-aid kit stored under the sink.

When he turned back to his boyfriend, Steve was holding the back of his head with an unhappy face.

“Let’s see the damage”, Billy said and nudged Steve’s hand away and tilted his head to the side so he could get a better look. “Eh, it’s no too deep. Bleeds a lot, but head wounds usually do.”

“I _know_ ”, Steve said, glaring. “You taught me that a couple of weeks ago, remember?”

Billy ignored him. “Do you wanna go to the hospital?”

“No”, Steve said, and then glanced up at Billy. “If you didn’t have to go before, then I don’t have to now. Why? Do you think I need to?”

“You’re not slurring, your pupils are reacting normally, and you’re coherent. It’s not deep, so no, I don’t think so. Unless … well, they can probably put a stitch or two in this one. Lessen the risk of it leaving a scar.”

“A scar?”

“Just a tiny one.”

“Pfft”, Steve said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “A tiny scar where no one will ever see it. Yeah, no. Let’s just clean it up and bandage it.”

Billy hummed and started rummaging through the first-aid kit for something to clean the wound with. “What if you go bald one day?”

“Hey now!” Steve protested, looking offended. “I’m not gonna go _bald_. _What_?”

Laughing softly, Billy wet the corner of a towel and parted Steve’s hair in order to clean off the blood. “It _would_ be a terrible shame.” He tugged a little on one of the strands. “You have the second-best hair in Hawkins, after all.”

That had Steve huff out a laugh and raise an eyebrow. “Now I _know_ you’re not referring to that rat’s nest atop your head as the greatest hair in Hawkins …”

Billy barked out a laugh too, which melted into a smirk. “I was talking about Erica Sinclair’s do, actually, but thanks for the _compliment_. Good to hear you think so highly of the effort I put into looking good for you every damn day …”

“For _me_ , huh?” And Steve’s smile softened, got more private.

Shrugging one shoulder, Billy refused to look Steve in the eye, pretending to be very busy holding the end of the towel to the cut in Steve’s skin, waiting for the bleeding to stop. “Maybe.”

For a while, they were quiet. The bleeding eventually slowed enough for Billy to be able to put a sterile compress on the wound, and then wrap a bandage around Steve’s head to keep it in place. Taking a step back, he then snickered at the sight before him.

“What?” Steve asked and got up to look at himself in the mirror. When he saw his reflection, he groaned. “I look a mess!” And he did – his hair was either squished under the bandage or sticking up over it. “You could have _tried_ to make it look neater, at least!”

Billy grinned and pressed a kiss to his cheek while keeping eye contact with him in the mirror. “Payback for the rat’s nest comment”, he said. “Besides, it’s not bad. You look kinda like Rambo.”

Steve raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and Billy hurried to explain. “With the dark hair and the headband and the blood …? Kinda badass.”

“Hm”, Steve said, obviously not convinced. “I fell over because a bird jumped at me, and banged my head open on a kitchen drawer. _So_ badass.”

“Okay when you put it _that_ way …”

“What way would _you_ put it, then?”

Billy wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso and grabbed onto his own wrist, and leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I don’t know … I guess one could say that … you were scarred by my cock.” He wagged his eyebrows.

Steve had to laugh, but tried to smother it with a scowl. Pushing Billy away playfully, he brought up a finger and pointed it in Billy’s face. “You will _not_ say those words in combination, _ever_ again. Especially if people can _hear_.”

“Aw come on, sweetheart”, Billy laughed. “It’s not like you’re the only one with embarrassing scars!”

Steve sat down on the edge of the bathtub and looked up at Billy with a challenge in his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah”, Billy said and pulled up his shirt from his jeans to indicate a small white scar just over his hipbone. “Got this one when I was ten, trying out a new move on the basketball court while playing with a bunch of older guys. I was trying to block this one guy, and he just bowled me over as if I was made of paper. It was very embarrassing. I fell into a _bush_.”

“Hah!” Steve said and pulled up his sleeve to show off a scar on his arm, just below his elbow. “This one was from when me and Tommy dared each other to see who could climb the highest from the bottom of the quarry.”

Billy laughed, mirth in his eyes. “Who won?”

“Tommy. But he broke his arm, and I only got a couple of bruises and this scar, so _really_ I think I was the winner there …”

Throwing his foot up on the toilet seat, Billy pulled his jeans up and his sock down to show off a hairy leg and a jagged scar that made Steve wince in sympathy.

“Got this when I was trying to teach the shitbird how to skate, when she and Susan had just moved in back in California.”

Steve’s wince was replaced by a surprised look, and then he laughed. “Wait, you _skate_?!”

“Did when I was younger”, Billy said, pulling his pant leg down to cover the scar. He was looking a little red in the face, and scratched the back of his neck. “Hadn’t done it for a couple of years when I was teaching her, so … well. I kinda … lost my balance and fell into a pile of junk. Put my foot in a mess of barbed wire and, well. That happened. Hurt like a bitch.”

“What did Max say?”

“Nothing. I didn’t let her see it. Just wrapped a bandana around it, gritted my teeth and said I was bored of the whole thing and wanted to go home.”

“That _is_ a very you thing to do”, Steve laughed. “Tell me you at least got a tetanus shot?”

Billy just shook his head, still blushing a little but looking smug about it. Steve reached out and pulled him down to his level by the collar of his shirt. “You’re so stupid. You’re lucky I like you anyway.”

Billy let himself be manhandled, and once their faces were close, his eyes flickered up to Steve’s forehead, and they both stilled. “I am.”

“You’re … what?” Steve asked, a little breathless.

“Stupid.” And before Steve could draw breath to protest, he added, “ _And_ lucky.” And he cupped Steve’s face in one hand while letting the thumb of his other hand brush over the bandage on Steve’s head; over the other scar that was there, just at his hairline. The scar that was there because of him.

“Sorry”, Billy said, voice quiet. Steve didn’t let him speak any further, instead closing the distance between them and shutting him up with a kiss. Unfortunately, this made him slip slightly on the edge of the bathtub and he would have fallen again – dragging Billy with him – if Billy hadn’t steadied him.

“Hey now”, he said, an amused glint in his eyes. “Once was quite enough, Rambo.”

It was Steve’s turn to blush. “Whatever.”


	21. Wichcraft

The kids were standing outside the arcade, behind their parked bikes, and they were all pretending that they weren’t occasionally looking over at Steve and Billy, who were both leaning against Steve’s car, smoking. They were standing shoulder to shoulder in companionable silence – just observing the way the kids were huddled together as if they were discussing strategy before a big game. From time to time, one of the kids would stick their head up like a meerkat, but quickly hunch down again when they saw that they were being watched.

“I don’t like this, Harrington”, Billy mumbled, arms crossed over his chest, his cigarette moving in the corner of his mouth as he spoke. “They’re up to something.”

“M-hm”, Steve said and took a drag of his own cigarette. “Yup.”

“Look at them. They’re _plotting_.”

“Sure are. You wanna leave before they involve us?”

“Nah”, Billy said and blew out smoke from the side of his mouth, away from Steve. “I kinda wanna see what they’re gonna do.”

Steve just shrugged and leaned back against his car, settling in for a longer wait.

As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait for much longer. Just a minute or so later, one kid broke off from the group and made their way over towards the parking lot where Billy and Steve were waiting. To their surprise, it was El who had been appointed to approach them. Steve straightened up and offered a smile when she got closer, and Billy narrowed his eyes.

“Hello”, she said with a little smile of her own. “The Party … we have a question.”

Billy and Steve glanced at each other, before turning back to El. “What is it?”

“Mike and the others are setting up a Halloween campaign this weekend –“ Billy nudged Steve in the side with an elbow. “– and since it’s the first time I’m going to be playing as my own character, they want to make it special.” Another nudge, which caused Steve to bump back with his own elbow.

El either didn’t notice, or ignored it, because she simply continued, “And Mike says that it would be so much better if we could borrow Phil for it.” She smiled. “They’ve been writing a character especially for him and everything!”

“Low blow to use El”, Billy muttered, so low that only Steve could hear him. “Low _blow_!”

She _did_ look adorable, where she was standing in front of them with a hopeful smile on her face. There was never any pretending with El, no hidden agenda. She was simply happy to be included in the Party’s campaign. Her big brown eyes were _very_ hard to say no to, because no one wanted to be responsible for making that face fall in disappointment. Steve knew it, Billy knew it – and the Party knew it. Which was probably why they’d sent her over in the first place. They knew that Billy would have laughed in the face of anyone else (with the possible exception of Will, whom he also had a soft spot for).

“I don’t know …” Billy said, squirming a bit in discomfort. Trying to say no on principle and feeling bad about it.

“You can join us”, El said brightly, as if that was the problem. “It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know if that’s –“ Steve started, looking between El and Billy, obviously trying to be supportive of his boyfriend.

But. “Okay”, Billy said, quite suddenly. “Deal.”

El’s smile widened and she thanked him before she turned back to the rest of the Party, and Steve had to bite the inside of his lip to stop himself from grinning. “I remember hearing you say that you wouldn’t let Phil near those kids _ever again_?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s just, I seem to remember you ranting about it only _yesterday_ …”

“Oh, you saw her! Like you would have been able to say no!”

They were in public, so Steve couldn’t exactly lean in for a kiss like he wanted to. Instead, he leaned a little closer so his arm touched Billy’s, and murmured, “You big softie.”

“Shut _up_.”

***

Two days later, in Steve’s den, the Party was four hours into an adventure where they were collecting seven of the world’s greatest treasures in order to save the world from some yet-to-be-revealed evil. They’d gotten an enchanted locket when they’d saved a forest sprite from humans with torches, they’d gotten a moonstone when they made peace between two rivaling packs of werewolves, and they’d gotten a seashell made out of crystal after a brief side-mission to an underwater kingdom that was _‘definitely not Atlantis, Steve, this is totally different’_.

Now, they were fighting a coven of witches who had stolen the magical Phoenix Lazarus from a Northern village in order to gain more power. The village apparently relied on the firebird to keep the winter bearable, so they could grow their crops and survive the harsh climate, so they had asked the Party to save it. The Party, naturally, agreed.

But the witches, now aware that they were under attack, were trying to sacrifice Lazarus – figuring that if they couldn’t keep him alive, at least they’d drain him of his fire powers before it was too late. The Party was fighting tooth and nail, but the witches were too many and the head witch was holding Phil … uuuh, Lazarus … down on the altar, raising her ceremonial knife –

“Wait, _knife_? Don’t witches use, like, spells and wands and shit?”

Everyone turned to Steve in that moment and shushed him, and Billy – who had been leaning forward in his seat, absolutely riveted, for the last hour – turned a grave face towards his boyfriend.

“Stevie”, he said, voice close to a growl. “You know I love you, but my cock is about to be sacrificed to a bunch of witches and if you ruin this for me I will have to gag you.”

Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but no sound came out. Billy turned his attention back to the campaign, where Dustin’s bard distracted a couple of witches enough so that El’s mage got a chance to throw a fireball at the head witch. (Billy gasped, but was reminded by Will in a hushed whisper that Lazarus would be fine dealing with fire, since he was a Phoenix).

With their head witch out of commission, the rest of the coven was defeated by the brave Party. The Phoenix was rescued, and taken back to the village, where the village elder – grateful to have their firebird back – offered to let Lazarus accompany them on their dangerous mission. It was summertime anyway, he said, and thus the village really wouldn’t need their Phoenix until the fall at the earliest, so if they just brought him back before then, they were good. Also, a Phoenix would be good to have on their quest, as he had many magical quantities that could come in handy.

The Party thanked the village elder, and brought Lazarus along, continuing their mission, now with _four_ treasures.

Billy threw himself back against the backrest of the couch he was sitting on, next to Steve, and dragged a hand across his face.

“Man”, he said, watching the table that the kids were seated around. El was looking smug over having defeated the head witch, and Phil was resting in Will’s lap, napping comfortably while Will was petting his cape. “I never knew this shit was so intense.”

Steve just stared at him, still. When he hadn’t said anything in a couple of seconds, Billy frowned and turned to him. Steve was looking at him, wide-eyed, with a growing smile on his face.

“You _love_ me?”


	22. Lost

“Shit shit shit shit shit …”

Steve followed a litany of curses into the den, and stood dumbfounded in the doorway at the sight that greeted him. All the pillows in the couch had been thrown onto the floor in a big pile. The couch itself had been dragged off the carpet, and Billy was …

… well. All Steve could see of his boyfriend was his jean-clad ass, moving around as Billy seemed to be crawling on all fours on the carpet, swearing again when his elbow hit the table leg.

It wasn’t an _entirely_ unpleasant sight, but. It _was_ ten thirty pm. “What are you _doing_?”

Billy didn’t even look up. “Lost my necklace.”

Steve – who had started smiling at the scene in front of him – froze at that. The necklace was important to Billy, and he never took it off. No wonder the den looked like someone had broken in.

Instead of commenting, Steve just got to his knees next to Billy and started dragging his hands over the carpet, feeling for the piece of jewelry that should be around his boyfriend’s neck. Billy didn’t say anything either, but he bumped Steve’s shoulder in thanks.

Five minutes later, they gave up. “ _Shit_!” Billy leaned back against the – now bare – couch and threw his head back, hiding his face in his hands.

Nudging Billy’s foot with his own, Steve asked softly, “When did you last have it?”

“I don’t know”, Billy said, despairingly. “It was there when I left home, I know that. But after that, I don’t … I just noticed it was gone a while ago.”

That was a window of four and a half hours. Four and a half hours, during which Billy had been driving, picking up Max from the Sinclair house, dropped her off at home, and hung out at Steve’s house. Steve tried to recall if Billy had been wearing his necklace when they were kissing in front of the TV while having dinner (leftover pizza), or when Billy got out of the shower looking all pink and delicious, but he couldn’t remember. He’d been distracted, and honestly – most of the times when he saw Billy, he had other things on his mind than jewelry.

Now he felt bad, for some reason. He should have checked.

“Did you check your car?”

“Yeah. I checked the car, I checked the bathroom, I checked the living room … I thought maybe I’d lost it in here when we … you know.”

“Yeah.”

Billy went home that night without his necklace.

***

Two days later, when Billy showed up at the Harrington house, he’d barely made it out of the car before Steve was on him; wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him, deep and dirty, right there in the driveway. Billy kissed back – because how could he _not_ – and then he backed away and threw a surreptitious glance at the neighbor’s yard.

“Oh don’t worry, they’re out of town.”

Billy relaxed and leaned in for another kiss. “What’s this for?”

“Nothing”, Steve said and leaned his forehead against Billy’s. But he was looking way too smug about something.

“You’re up to something.”

“Maybe”, Steve said and bit his lip – and Billy suddenly wanted to bite Steve’s lip, too. Instead he just watched his boyfriend as he barely made it four seconds before cracking. “Okay, so I may have a surprise for you.”

“Ambushing me in broad daylight wasn’t surprise enough?”

That made Steve laugh. “Nope, come on!” And he took Billy’s hand and tugged at him, making him follow him into the house. Phil greeted them at the door, and Steve happily picked him up and deposited him in Billy’s arms. Billy looked a bit bewildered, but held the bird gently as Steve pulled them into the laundry room.

The laundry room was _officially_ where Phil’s nest was, and where he was supposed to be spending the nights. But Billy knew that Steve let him out more often than not, and he’d found feathers in bed that did _not_ come from the pillows, so he had a strong suspicion that when he wasn’t around to warm Steve’s bed, Phil was.

Not that he minded. He just wished he got to see it some time.

Anyway, there was a basket under the wooden counter in the laundry room that they had lined with soft towels, for Phil to sleep in when he deigned to use his own bed, and now Steve bent down and pulled the basket out.

“What…?” Billy started, but quieted when Steve – grinning – pulled up a corner of the towel to reveal –

A veritable treasure trove. There was a silver fork, a tube of glue, half a pencil, two coins, a key, what looked like a couple of slices of onion, and a bottle cap. And, in the middle of it all …

“My necklace!” Billy started reaching for it, forgot that he was holding Phil, and had to readjust his grip when Phil flapped his wings and squawked in protest. Steve took pity on him and took the necklace from the basket, and put it in Billy’s hand. Closed his fingers around it.

“I’d put it around your neck in a romantic fashion”, he said, voice low, “but the clasp is broken.”

Billy just smiled, face full of relief, and then he turned to Phil and gave him a mock-stern little shake. “You thieving little shit! I thought you were a cock, not a magpie!”

Phil made a sound and flapped his wings again, and Billy put him down. They both watched him strut out of the laundry room as if he’d done nothing wrong, ever. Billy called out after him, “Dick move, Phil. Dick move!”

“Actually”, Steve said, “it was obviously a _cock_ move.”

And, well, Billy just _had_ to kiss him then, didn’t he?


	23. A phobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Ornithophobia - fear of birds)

While quite a lot of people knew that Steve (and Billy) had a pet cock by now, not many seemed to _understand_ it. They had both been forced to fend off questions about Phil, and while no one was outright rude, people seemed to be confused about it. A dog or a cat was a pet – maybe a hamster or a budgie – but a _cock_? Living in a _house_? It seemed to shake the residents of Hawkins to their cores.

Of course, there were a couple of lovely exceptions. Claudia Henderson was delighted to hear that Steve had gotten a pet (“Oh, a pet is such great company, don’t you think?”), and Joyce Byers laughed and told them to bring Phil the next time they were over for dinner.

They thought nothing of it, thought she was just being polite, until the day before the monthly dinner at the Byers’, when Billy was at Melvald’s to buy smokes and Joyce was ringing him up.

“So, are you bringing your bird tomorrow?”

For half a second, he thought that she was referring to some kind of girlfriend, which – she’d seen him make out with Steve in Steve’s car in the parking lot behind the store less than a week ago – but then it clicked, and he smiled at her. “What, Phil? No, Mrs Byers, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’ve told you, it’s Joyce!” she said and swatted his arm lightly. “And I want you to bring him.”

Billy put his pack of cigarettes in his pocket and watched her with his eyebrows raised. “What, really?”

“Yeah, I wanna meet him. All the kids have so many stories to tell, I simply have to meet Phil the great and powerful firebird, or whatever they call him.”

“It’s actually Lazarus the Phoenix, in the … in the game”, Billy said and blushed bright red when Joyce gave him a knowing look. “But, uh, if you’re sure?”

“I’m sure. What do birds eat? Should I make him something special?”

Billy scratched at the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll bring some food for him.”

He had to look away when Joyce beamed at him. “Great! I’ll see you and Steve tomorrow then – and Phil.”

***

“Are you sure she said it was okay to bring Phil?” Steve said the next day. He was driving, and hesitantly side-eyeing Billy who was in the passenger seat, holding Phil steady in his lap and trying to keep him from eating the bouquet of flowers they’d bought at the gas station.

“Yeah”, Billy said, putting the flowers on the dashboard and wrapping an arm around Phil’s neck to keep him from going after them. “She seemed excited about it, even.”

“Huh”, Steve said. And then, after a moment’s thoughtful silence, “Joyce is the best.”

Billy couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah.”

They got to the Byers’ house early, and were greeted at the door by Will and Lucas, who was already there. Joyce accepted the flowers, cooed over Phil, and when Billy asked if she wanted to hold him, she nodded excitedly. When Phil – who was not exactly used to just being handed over to new people – flapped his wings in discontent, Joyce let go in surprise and they all watched as Phil half fell, half flew onto a nearby table, where he knocked over a porcelain figure of a mouse in a boot. It fell to the floor and broke into a dozen pieces, and Phil jumped in fright but stayed on the table.

No one said anything for a couple of heartbeats, before Steve made a weak ‘ta-daa’ gesture and said, in a slightly unsure voice, “Um, so yeah. Now you’ve met Phil? Yay?”

“Sorry about your … boot”, Billy said and bent down to pick up the broken pieces, while Steve grabbed Phil and put him under his arm.

Joyce, like the angel she was, just laughed and waved it away. “Oh I hated that thing, don’t worry about it. Got it from an aunt that one time. I’ve been keeping it around in the hopes that someone would bump into it eventually. Phil did me a favor, really!”

She went to the closet to get a broom, which Billy took from her hands without a word. She gave him a soft smile and let him clean up the mess without commenting.

“I hope you’re hungry! I made lasagna.”

Joyce wasn’t the best cook, but it wasn’t the food they were there for. It was the sense of warmth, of familiarity, of being _welcome_. It was the highlight of Billy’s month – if one didn’t count the all the quality time he managed to sneak in with Steve, one on one.

Claudia drove Dustin and Mike over later, and Susan dropped Max off almost at the same time (Joyce went out to exchange a couple of pleasantries with the other mothers). Nancy and Jonathan showed up next, Jonathan having picked her up.

Hopper and El were the last ones to arrive.

And suddenly, it became quite apparent that Joyce had had an ulterior motive, inviting Phil along. Because as soon as Hopper showed up, she grinned at him. Really widely. Like she knew something he didn’t. Hopper, wisely, faltered in his step and narrowed his eyes.

“Uh, hey Joyce. What’s up?”

“Hi, _Hop_ ”, she said, and something about her voice made several people look over. She took him by the arm and escorted him into the house. “We have a special guest here today, who’s just been _dying_ to meet you.”

“Uh”, Hopper said cleverly. Joyce placed him in the middle of the couch, where he sat all ramrod-straight and looked around the room nervously.

By now, the rest of them had gotten inside too, and were watching Joyce. Because she was clearly planning something. She went into the kitchen, looked around and walked out again. Then she went into the hallway, disappearing from sight. A quiet “aha!”, and soon she was back – struggling to hold a squirming and flapping cock in her hands.

Most of the people in the house were watching Joyce, because it really did look like Phil would escape her grip at any moment – but Billy glanced over at Hopper, and once he did, he couldn’t look away.

Because Hopper – at the sight of Phil – went white as a sheet. He stood up so fast he almost lost his balance, and as Billy watched in wonder, Hopper actually backed up _onto the couch_ , and then _over_ it to get to the other side. With a piece of furniture between himself and Joyce-holding-a-bird, he held one hand out and put the other at his side, as if he was itching to draw his gun (which he wasn’t wearing, thankfully).

“Hey now!” he said, gruffly, but everyone could hear the waver in his voice.

Billy jumped in and plucked Phil from Joyce when it looked like he was going to claw at her, and the bird immediately calmed down. Joyce turned to Hopper, still grinning.

“Have you met Phil?” she said, sweetly.

“Hrm”, Hopper said, not moving from behind the couch – and keeping one eye on the bird in Billy’s arms. “We’ve met.”

“Briefly”, Billy added, because now when he thought about, Hopper hadn’t exactly seemed thrilled the last time, when he’d pulled Billy over in his car and had Phil as a passenger. “But I believe proper introductions are in order, don’t you?” He took a step closer and got the pleasure to witness Hopper – big, burly Chief of Police Jim Hopper – back into the wall and shake his head.

“Nope. No, not at all. Nuh-uh.”

“What’s the matter, Hop?” Joyce said, voice like poisoned honey, _still grinning_. “Something wrong?”

Hopper looked away from Billy and Phil for long enough to throw a despairing look at her. “Come on Joyce, I said I was sorry!”

“The spider was as big as my palm, Hop.”

“I killed it for you!”

“ _After_ you laughed at me for like five minutes.” She leaned in and, seemingly ignoring everyone else in the room, looked Hop dead in the eye. “Payback’s a bitch, Hop. Now come and say hi to Phil.”

Hopper glanced apologetically at Billy. “No offence, kid, but _no way in hell_ am I getting close to that thing.”

Joyce laughed, and El frowned. “Don’t you like Phil?” She looked almost offended at this. Honestly, Billy could relate.

But Joyce pulled her close by her shoulders and gave her a half-hug. “Oh no, honey. Hop’s got ornithophobia.”

“Ornito…?”

Joyce looked insanely pleased as she turned and gave Hopper another sickly-sweet smile. “He’s afraid of birds.”

Billy had to bite his lip at that so he wouldn’t laugh, and he couldn’t look at Steve because Steve was obviously having the same troubles. The kids seemed to still be stuck on whether ‘ornithophobia’ was a real thing or something Joyce just made up, and Nancy hid a smile behind her hands.

“It’s not funny!” Hopper said, although no one seemed to be agreeing with him.

“It’s a little funny”, Joyce said and turned to Will and Mike, who were standing the closest. “Did I ever tell you about the time when Hopper had to deal with that owl who thought that Eleanor Gillespie’s hair was a nest? I’ve never laughed so much _in my life_.”

“It was the worst thing that happened to me in Hawkins since I moved here”, Hopper grumbled, looking a little red-faced, but taking a couple of steps out from behind the couch. Then he seemed to realize what he’d said. “Well. Until recently, at least.”

“How can you be afraid of _birds_?” Max asked, scrunching her face up in a way that made her look simultaneously confused and like she smelled something bad. “They’re basically just feathered balloons.”

“Look, kid”, Hopper said, sounding serious. “I saw ‘The birds’ in the theatre with a buddy of mine when I was their age” – here, he pointed a thumb at Billy and Steve, who were still trying hard not to laugh, “and it _fucked me up_.”

El levelled him with a disappointed stare. “Jim. Language.”

“I mean, I got really messed up from it, okay?” He turned to Jonathan, gesturing wildly. “ _You’ve_ seen that movie, _right_? It’s awful! You know?”

Everyone looked at Jonathan, who looked a little bit uncomfortable to be at the center of attention. But then he cleared his throat, shrugged one shoulder and said, “I don’t know, man, I kinda like Hitch– “ He cut himself off, abruptly. Then, with the face of someone who just realized that he’s made a huge mistake, he hesitantly finished, “–cock.”

Hopper’s face fell, Joyce snorted, and Billy laughed until he cried.


	24. Carnival

The phone rang just as Steve had gotten comfortable in Billy’s lap in the armchair, making him sigh heavily and roll his eyes. Billy tightened his hold on him and put his chin on Steve’s shoulder, pouting.

“Let it ring.”

“It might be my parents.”

“So? My point still stands. Let it ring.”

Tempting. Steve didn’t really want to move. Billy was warm and solid under him, but. “It might be important.”

“Probably not, though. Probably just one of the brats.” Billy leaned back a bit and pulled Steve with him, just as the phone rang again.

Steve grimaced. “In that case, it might be _Upside Down_ important.”

“Ugh, _fine_ ”, Billy groaned, and reluctantly let go. Then he dug in his pocket and produced a joint from his pocket. “But if you’re not back in five minutes I’m smoking this without you.”

“Oooh, consider me motivated”, Steve said as he got up out of Billy’s lap, slapped his thigh, and backed away while wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. He laughed when Billy stuck out his tongue, like a child.

Snatching the phone from its cradle, he cleared his throat and had to look away so he wouldn’t laugh at the faces Billy was making. “Harrington residence, this is Steve speaking.”

“Steve, darling, what took you so long to answer?”

Steve smiled tightly and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Hi mom, I just got inside, hang on, let me just close the door.”

He put the phone down on the table and went to the front door – opening it and then closing it loudly enough that it would be heard over the phone – and when he passed the living room he mouthed “It’s my mom” to Billy, who replied with a roll of his eyes. Phil had taken Steve’s place in Billy’s lap.

“There we go”, Steve said when he got back, having used the respite to school his voice into something approaching pleasant. “How’s the cruise? Where are you guys now?”

His mother’s voice warmed up audibly when she answered. “Cozumel, darling, and it’s simply _wonderful_. I must say, I wasn’t very keen on going on another cruise after the Princess Cruises fiasco last year, but Carnival Cruise Lines are so much better. Everything’s high quality, and your father got us a _suite_. There’s a concierge, and we can get food delivered to our cabin for every meal! Not that we do, of course –“ Here, she laughed, as if staying _in_ for dinner when you could go _out_ was the silliest thing she could imagine. “– but it’s an option.”

“Uh-huh”, Steve said, and leaned back so he could glance into the living room. “Sounds great.” Billy was sitting in the armchair, leaning against one armrest with his legs thrown over the other one. Phil was standing on his stomach while Billy was squirming when his claws dug in a bit (Steve knew from experience just how sharp they could be). Steve couldn’t hear what his boyfriend was saying, but he was holding the joint in front of a confused-looking Phil, and it looked like he was busy explaining to the bird just what it was. Steve had to smile.

Steve’s mother, meanwhile, was happily telling Steve about the amenities of Holiday, the cruise ship they were on, and about the sandy beaches of Cozumel, Mexico. “I never would have thought Mexico would be so clean! It’s warm and pleasant and we’ve met so many nice couples here. Just this morning we were walking on the sundeck and we bumped into the Dickinsons! You remember them, right? From the company’s Christmas party, oh, it must have been two years ago now? Anyway, they’ve been on the same ship for days, and we only realized it today!”

“M-hm”, Steve said, only listening with half an ear while watching Billy pull a thread from the bottom of his shirt. Looking up, Billy caught his eye and grinned. He pointed at the joint, then to Phil, and then to Steve, while nodding encouragingly with his eyebrows almost at his hairline. Then he pretended to smoke it.

‘What?’ Steve mimed at him, and Billy repeated the motions, more slowly this time. Steve’s mom was chatting away in his ear, and he threw in the occasional “Yeah” or “Uh-huh” to show that he was listening, but all of his attention was on Billy now. He still didn’t get it.

“Steve? Are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes of course, mom”, Steve lied and turned his back on the living room so he’d be able to concentrate on the call.

“As I was saying, they should be there tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. You don’t have to pay them, that’s been taken care of, I just wanted you to know.”

“Okay.” There was a yelp from the living room. “Uh, wait, who?” And Steve _had_ to look now, curious. He leaned back, just throwing a glance in there.

“The pool company, Steve!”

Billy was holding Phil between his knees and was struggling to attach the joint to one of the cock’s legs with the thread he’d pulled off his shirt, while simultaneously trying to avoid Phil’s claws. Phil was not impressed with the treatment, and acted accordingly. Billy swore, and Steve snorted.

“Steve!”

“I’m sorry mom, yes. The pool company.”

He _got it_ , suddenly. Billy was trying to tie the joint to Phil’s leg so Phil could bring it over to Steve, like some kind of weed-delivering carrier pigeon. That realization, paired with how annoyed Phil was about it (and how he was showing it by flapping his wings and flailing his legs – and sharp claws! – in Billy’s face, causing him to jerk back in terror), made Steve choke on a laugh, and he had to fake a cough.

“Honestly Steve, you seem so distracted. Are you not feeling well?”

“No, no, I’m fine, I just … I got something stuck in my throat, that’s all.” There was a muffled snort from the living room. Steve only heard ‘If you want something in your throat, I’ve got –‘ before he loudly continued, to drown Billy out, “ _Anyway_ , it’s nothing. Really.”

“Alright, then”, his mother said, only hesitating for a moment. In the background, a woman’s voice called her name. “That’s Vivian. I have to go. Are you sure you’re alright, though, darling?”

Steve looked into the living room again. Phil had jumped down (or perhaps been hastily put down) on the carpet where he was puffing up his feathers indignantly, and Billy – two large red scratches on each forearm – was picking up the joint from where he had dropped it. He sat back in the chair, put the joint obnoxiously behind one ear, and when he saw that Steve was watching him, he grinned and mimed choking on a dick.

Steve felt his smile grow. “Yeah mom. I’m perfect.”


	25. Masked Stranger

The next day, Steve was awoken by angry voices coming from the backyard. He furrowed his brow, still half-asleep, fully intending on going back to sleep – at least until he heard Billy’s voice shout, angrily, “ _Hands off my cock, dude!_ ”

Steve was moving before he realized it. He found himself in the backyard in no time, dressed in only his underwear, but holding his bat in his hands. The shouting stopped, and he found that two of the three involved parties were staring mutely at him. He blinked, trying to make sense of what was going on.

There was Billy, who was brandishing a rake as if it was a weapon and looked prepare to do some serious damage with it.

There was a man, wearing a mask and plastic goggles, who had a strange kind of canister strapped to his back which was attached to some kind of hose with a nozzle, which was pointed threateningly at –

Phil. Who was crowing threateningly, and had puffed up his feathers to look bigger. He was the only one who hadn’t frozen when Steve ran out the door, half-naked and holding a nail bat, and the bird now took the opportunity to attack the man’s shoelaces.

The man swore, words muffled behind his mask, and aimed a kick at Phil.

And things happened quickly, after that.

Phil jumped and only caught a glancing blow from the man’s shoe, but it was still enough to make him hit the ground with his wings out. Billy let out a furious roar and ran at the man. Steve found himself running at the both of them – not knowing if he was going to kill the stranger for kicking Phil or try to stop Billy from killing the stranger for kicking Phil – but didn’t get there in time. Billy hunched down, tackled the man with enough force that he actually lifted him off the ground, and promptly threw him into the pool.

Honestly, whoever he was, he was lucky that was all Billy did.

Steve stopped by the edge of the pool in time for the man to come up gasping for breath. His googles had fallen off and he pulled the mask off his face to be able to shout, “What the hell is _wrong_ with you people?!”

“Us?!” Billy growled and stood up after having checked on Phil (who was okay and standing at the edge of the pool too, making a drawn-out hoarse sound in his throat – a cock’s version of growling, Steve guessed). “Who the fuck are _you_ , dude? This is private property, and you think you can just waltz in here –“ Steve had to throw the bat to the side and hold Billy back, because it looked like he was about to jump into the pool and go after the guy again. “– and attack people’s pets!”

“Fuck you, dude!” the man yelled from the pool, and wisely didn’t try to swim to the side. “I was hired by Mrs. Harrington to empty and disinfect the pool for the winter, and she _specifically_ said that I should just walk right in! She didn’t mention that goddamn nightmare of a rooster, who by the way _attacked me first_!”

“Oh shit”, Steve mumbled, because that’s right, his mom _had_ mentioned something about a pool company coming in today or tomorrow. He’d been too distracted by Billy to listen to what she was saying at the time.

Billy didn’t give any indication that he’d heard Steve, instead he was fighting against Steve’s grip and spat at the man, “And you just had to attack him back, is that it? Big, strong man like yourself, huh? It’s a fucking bird, man!”

The man, moving his hands in circles to keep himself afloat, huffed out a wet laugh. “Who the fuck keeps a bird like that as a pet anyway?”

Billy was practically hissing at this point, and Phil was also standing close to the edge of the pool, looking ready to follow Billy’s lead if he jumped in. Steve really didn’t want to find out of Phil could swim, so he pulled Billy back and moved in front of him, cutting off the man in the pool from his line of sight.

“Hey, babe?” he said, low enough that the man wouldn’t hear. “Why don’t you take Phil and go inside, make sure he’s okay? Let me handle this.”

Billy looked ready to protest, but Steve put his palms to his chest and pushed him back, gently. “Take Phil inside. Wait for me. Okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Billy forced himself to relax. “Okay.” He then bent to the side just to glare at the man and give him the middle finger. The man gave him two middle fingers back, causing him to go under water for half a second. Steve was too busy making sure Billy left to fully appreciate it.

After Billy had picked Phil up and stalked inside, Steve sighed and turned to give the man in the pool his full attention. The man had started moving towards the ladder, and Steve walked around the pool to meet him as he got out of it.

“Sorry about that”, Steve started saying, “I didn’t know you’d come by this early. If I’d known, I’d made sure my, uh, friend knew to expect you.”

“’Friend’, huh?” the man sneered and shook water out of his hair. He was red in the face and so angry that Steve half expected smoke to start billowing out of his ears. “Whatever, just keep your dog on a leash next time.”

Steve stiffened. He didn’t know if the man was talking about Billy or Phil, but he didn’t like the tone either way. “Hey, now …”

But the man put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. “ _Fuck_ you, and fuck your _fucking_ boyfriend and his _fucking_ bird!”

And okay, that just wasn’t cool. Steve planted his feet, and before he was even aware of it, he’d pushed the man back. The man windmilled his arms for a second before losing his balance and falling back into the pool with a very satisfying splash. When he came up gasping for breath for the second time in the last couple of minutes, Steve went over to pick up his discarded bat. He held it between his hands and said, all casual-like, “Don’t worry about the pool. We’ll take care of it ourselves from now on. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go inside and _fuck my fucking boyfriend_. I’m sure you can find your own way out.”

Not staying around to find out, or listening to the man’s sputtered curses, he shouldered his bat and went back to his house, head held high. Billy met him in the kitchen. He’d deposited Phil on the floor at the bowl of chicken feed, and was standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, looking like he was trying hard not to move. When Steve walked inside, Billy was on him in a heartbeat, pushing him up against the wall and giving him an absolutely _filthy_ kiss.

“I saw what you did out there just now”, he murmured, “and I have never been more attracted to you in my _life_.”

Steve was going to say something, but was thoroughly distracted, once again.

(Phil, again proving his intelligence, left the room.)


	26. Abandoned building

When Steve opened the door, he was met by the sight of his boyfriend standing there, absolutely _beaming_ with excitement. He was bouncing on his feet and all but vibrating with delight.

“Uh”, Steve said intelligently as Billy’s smile got impossibly wider.

“I have a surprise for you”, Billy said and grabbed his hand and started dragging him out the door. Steve dug his heels in.

“Babe, wait, hang on, I’m not wearing shoes!”

Billy waited impatiently – still beaming – while Steve put some shoes on, and then pulled him along … to his own backyard?

“What …?” Steve started saying, but then he saw it.

Billy sounded extremely pleased as he posed in front of the old dog house that had been placed on the lawn, just next to the house. “I got it from George!” Here, he gestured to the house next door, where Steve’s neighbor George lived. “I was walking Phil yesterday and we met George, who was out walking Patty – that’s his dog, did you know her name was Patty? She’s a sweetheart – and we got talking about our pets and George really likes Phil! Because he’s got good taste. Anyway, I told him you had trouble sleeping because Phil keeps crowing at night –“

Here, Steve gave a fake smile and resolutely _didn’t_ admit that Phil actually slept with him in the bed on the nights when Billy wasn’t there, and that Phil only crowed and made noise on the nights when Billy stayed over and Phil, consequently, couldn’t sleep in Steve’s room. Instead he nodded encouragingly and willed back his blush.

“– and he gave us this! For _free_! Apparently Patty used to sleep in it but in the last couple of years she’s been sleeping indoors so they don’t really need it anymore.”

He looked at Steve with a surprisingly open face, with a dash of hopefulness. He looked like a kid who was trying to show an adult a cool rock he found, and Steve couldn’t help melting in the face of those eager blue eyes.

“That’s great!” he said, and Billy’s hopeful smile melted into something warmer; something just for Steve.

“It needs a bit of fixing – it’s been abandoned for a couple of years – but a little wood and some paint, and we can make this look real good! And Phil will get his own place, and you’ll be able to get some sleep when I’m not here.”

Steve gave a nervous little laugh. “Yeah, about that …” But he trailed off, because Billy dragged him to the garden shed to see if there was anything in there that they could use.

 _Fuck it_ , Steve thought. If Billy was this enthusiastic about building Phil a house, who was he to rain on that particular parade? It wasn’t like they’d had any particular plans for the day, anyway. Besides, it was hardly normal behavior for a cock to sleep on down pillows. A little macabre, even.

So, Steve went inside and changed into an old pair of jeans and a sweater he’d used when Billy taught him how to change the oil on his car, a couple of months ago. George-the-neighbor came over with Patty on a leash and gave them some pointers, and even went back to his own house for some better tools. They spent a couple of hours fixing up the dog house; replaced a couple of broken boards, scraped off the old paint and put on a new coat of a bright green paint that Billy had found in Steve’s parents’ shed which clashed horribly with everything else in the yard. When it was done, Billy nailed a piece of wood to the little house, right over the entrance, on which he’d painstakingly spelled out ‘Phil Cockins’ in black marker.

Then he took a step back and looked at the result, hands on his hips, with a proud smile on his face.

“Look at it”, he said. “It looks great. We did good.”

Steve looked – but he was looking at Billy, not the former dog house. And there was a proud smile on Steve’s face, too.

“We sure did.”


	27. Full moon

The problem with Phil now having a house of his own, Steve found out that night, was that Phil didn’t _want_ a house of his own. He wanted _Steve’s_ house.

Oh, Phil had seemed happy enough about it when they showed it to him that afternoon before Billy had to go home. They’d fixed up the old dog house that Steve’s neighbor had gifted them, and had filled it with Phil’s favorite things. There was the towel that they’d taken from his basket in the laundry room, and one of the pillows from the couch that he had taken for himself. They’d put out a couple of bowls with chicken feed and water, and Steve – who remembered the night when Phil had come looking for him when there’d been a power outage – had even put a flashlight in a corner, pointing upwards so the little house got nice and light at night.

Billy had been stupidly proud of what they’d done, and was so happy that he’d come up with a solution to something that he’d perceived as a problem that Steve hadn’t had the heart to tell him the truth.

The truth being that he really didn’t mind having Phil inside, anymore.

And also, maybe, that while Phil usually made a ruckus when Billy spent the night, he was only doing so because he was used to sleeping in bed with Steve when Billy _wasn’t_ there. And Steve hadn’t told Billy this, so of course Billy would think that Phil was behaving that way all other nights, as well.

And Billy – who hadn’t admitted out loud to feeling bad about Phil living with Steve, but who showed it with his actions instead – thought this was a solution. He’d been so happy to have come up with it that Steve just couldn’t tell him. Billy had kissed him softly before going home earlier, murmuring, “Sweet dreams, sweetheart”, and Steve had just about melted.

So now Phil was in his own house. Out in the backyard. And Steve was inside, in his own room, in his own bed, trying to sleep.

No Billy. No Phil.

Just the shadows of his room. The light of the full moon shining in through the crack in his curtains. And the sound of Phil’s ceaseless crowing coming in from outside.

Steve sighed and put a pillow over his head. It didn’t help.

Phil had been at it for an hour and a half. It was ten to midnight, now, and this was _not_ normal cock behavior. Steve felt bad about leaving Phil alone outside, but he was a bird – he wasn’t supposed to be inside. More than that, though, Steve wanted to _sleep_.

“Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!” he muttered to himself and eventually just threw the pillow at the opposite wall in frustration. Outside, Phil ignored him, and crowed again. Steve took a deep breath and tried again to close his eyes. Phil crowed again. Steve counted to ten, but only got to four before the bird gave another hoarse squawk – and Steve snapped.

He tossed the comforter to the side, power-walked to the window, fumbled to open it and eventually stuck his head out through the window and hissed, “Shut _up_ , Phil, you’re gonna wake the neighbors!”

Phil squawked again, more quiet this time, and it almost sounded like a question. Steve could see him against the lit-up opening to the old dog house. He was looking straight at Steve, and Steve suddenly felt like an asshole.

“No”, he said, trying to convince himself more than Phil. “You’re a bird. You’re _supposed_ to be outside.”

Phil answered with the loudest and longest crow yet, as if he understood what Steve said and was protesting against it.

“Shut up or I’ll make you into soup!” Steve hissed, and immediately felt bad.

He closed the window with a bang and turned his back on it. He was losing it. He was seriously having an argument with a bird in the middle of the night.

Just when he was about to go and see if his mother had earplugs lying around somewhere (his dad snored, she was bound to have some), there was a knock on the front door.

It was almost midnight, and there was a knock on the front door. They had a _doorbell_ – who was knocking on his door at midnight?

A memory popped up in his head – of Billy showing up on his doorstep in the middle of the night that first time, beaten up and too quiet – and his heart got stuck in his throat. But they’d come a long way since then. Billy had a spare key, so he would simply walk in, and if he was hurt he would wake Steve up. Unless … Maybe he’d lost the key? Or _worse_?

Heart beating hard in his chest, he all but ran downstairs and threw the door open, expecting to see Billy bloody and barely conscious, maybe barely holding himself up …

But instead of Billy, there was George. As in George, his elderly neighbor who had gifted them the dog house.

“Uh”, Steve said, suddenly acutely aware of that he’d ran downstairs in nothing but his underwear. He awkwardly reached out a hand and grabbed the first piece of clothing he found – his green autumn jacket – and used that to shield himself with.

George looked a little uncomfortable, but gave a little smile at that.

“Sorry to bother you this late”, he said, politely ignoring Steve’s state of dress. “I just … wanted to ask you if your rooster is feeling quite alright?”

In the silence that followed, Phil was crowing hoarsely from the backyard. Steve winced, and so did George.

“It’s just”, George said, apologetic, “He’s making an awful lot of noise for this time of night.”

“Yeah”, Steve agreed as Phil made himself heard once again. “I’ve … noticed.”

“I wouldn’t have said anything, it’s just that Patty’s spent the last hour under the bed and I …”

“Oh no, no”, Steve said, trying to hold up his hands while also still holding on to the jacket. “You’re right. He’s being a nuisance. I know.” He motioned over his shoulder, forced out a laugh. “It’s the full moon, he probably thinks it’s the sun! Think it’s the morning or something. I’ll … I’ll deal with it. I’m sorry.”

George gave a friendly smile, still looking like he was the one who wanted to apologize, and Steve felt like shit once again.

“Maybe your bird just wasn’t ready to … heh … leave the nest just yet.”

Steve gave a polite little laugh too. And there they stood, two neighbors. 50 years and a picket fence between them, one clad in underwear and hiding behind a jacket, and one in a brown pajamas and slippers.

Phil crowed again. It sounded like a man was being murdered.

“Well!” George said, slapping a thigh. “I better go.”

“M-hmm”, Steve said. “Yeah.”

“Have a nice night.”

“You too. Thanks. Sorry.”

He waved a little awkwardly when George turned and walked away, turning right when he got to the road to get to his own house. Steve shut the door and locked it, leaning his back against it while taking a deep breath and letting the jacket fall to the floor.

Then Phil cawed, and Steve pushed off the door in fury. He was fuming as he barreled through the house, muttering to himself the whole time. “ _Trying_ to do a good thing for you here, make you a _house_ , but _oh no_ , you have to wake the whole neighborhood! Howling at the moon as some sort of … of … were-cock! I swear I’ll make you into _nuggets_ …!”

He barged through the back door and out onto the deck – and almost tripped over Phil, who’d been standing right outside the door. Steve swore, and Phil cocked his head to the side and just looked at him.

Steve stared back. Phil cocked his head to the side, and didn’t make a sound.

A whole minute passed in absolute silence, with neither of them moving (except for the occasional jerky head movement). Eventually, Steve caved.

“Alright! Fine!” he said and held the door open. Phil happily strutted past him and into the kitchen. “But _you_ explain to your daddy why you’re not using the house we built for you. You spoiled brat.”

***

(Billy, surprisingly, didn’t take offence the next day, when Steve told him. He just laughed and said “He gets the spoiled brat thing from you.”)


	28. Nightmares

Steve didn’t actually have a lot of nightmares, these days (or maybe he did, and just didn’t remember them when he woke up. That was also a possibility). Billy was actually more likely to wake up gasping than Steve was, which they’d found out back when he first started spending the night. (But Billy was also the one to fall back asleep in under a minute, especially if Steve was there to hold him.)

This particular night, however, Steve woke up, and Billy was touching his face and speaking soft but insistent words to him. “Hey, hey, Stevie, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve cleared his throat and blinked his eyes open. “What?”

Billy touched his face again – brushing away _tears_ , Steve realized – and Steve sniffled and wiped a hand over his eyes. His eyelashes were wet with tears, and _what the hell_?

“You were talking in your sleep”, Billy said, quietly – Steve glanced over at him and found that he actually looked _worried_ , “and you were _crying_.”

“I’m sorry”, Steve said, reflexively.

Billy made a face, and suddenly he was looking more annoyed than worried. “What are you sorry for?”

“Uh”, Steve said. “Waking you up?”

“Shut up”, Billy said and pulled Steve closer, so he was curled up against his chest. He put his arms around him and hooked his ankle around one of his legs, basically inviting a cuddle.

Well. Aggressively inviting a cuddle. But Steve loved to cuddle and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he snuggled closer and put his head just under Billy’s jaw and gently grabbed on to Billy’s T-shirt. Billy, in turn, put one of his hands on Steve’s head and scratched lightly, just the way Steve liked it. Steve let out a satisfied hum and closed his eyes.

A minute passed in comfortable silence, during which Billy continued carding his fingers through Steve’s hair. Then he spoke up, hesitantly. “You wanna talk about it? The nightmare?”

Steve hummed against Billy’s skin. “I don’t really remember it.”

“You woke up crying, and you don’t remember why?”

Shrugging (and using the motion to inch even closer), Steve said “I don’t usually remember what I dream.” He pursed his lips, accidentally-but-not-really pressing a kiss to Billy’s neck, and then smiled. “Well, sometimes I do. There was the time when I dreamt that Mr Clarke was Santa Claus, and showed up downstairs on Christmas morning wearing only shorts and a Hawaiian shirt …”

He heard, more than felt, Billy huff out a laugh. He continued, “And then there was the time, kinda recently actually, when I dreamt about you.”

Billy made an interested noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah? What did I do?”

“Well …” Steve said, drawing it out. “You came over, and we were all alone. Kinda like now.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I brought you up to my room …”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And …” He leaned up on his arms so he could look down at Billy as he licked his lips. Billy’s eyes were trained on his, awaiting his next words.

“And then _what_ , Steve?”

“Then you brought out a basket of confetti and started blowing it out the window.” Billy’s face fell, and Steve had to laugh. “It was _blue_ glitter!”

Huffing, Billy pushed Steve off of him (but not at all as hard as he could have, so Steve knew he wasn’t being serious). “Dick!”

“No dicks in that dream”, Steve giggled. “Sorry!”

Billy grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt, and – as if he couldn’t decide whether to push him away again or pull him closer – just held him there. Steve made the decision for him, and plopped down on top of his boyfriend, making himself comfortable. Half a minute later, Billy’s fingers were back in his hair, and they both relaxed.

“You okay, though?” Billy said, in a low voice.

“Yeah”, Steve breathed.

“Do you need anything?”

The concern in his voice, which he wasn’t even trying very hard to hide, made Steve smile. “No. This is perfect.” And it was.

Billy was quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he stopped moving his hand and held his breath as if he wanted to say something. Steve waited patiently for him to speak.

“It’s good, yeah”, he eventually said. “But do you know what would make it _perfect_?”

Steve knew, and “No.”

“Come on!”

“You’re not bringing Phil in here.”

Because a) Steve still hadn’t told Billy that the bird spent most nights sleeping in his room, and b) if Billy found out, Steve would never hear the end of it.

(Also c) Billy was currently lying on Phil’s favorite pillow, and Steve _really_ didn’t want to have to choose between them if they both wanted the same pillow …)

Billy was pouting. It was very cute. “But … my cock!”

Steve raised himself up on an elbow so he could level Billy with a Look. “The only cock I want in here right now – besides my own – is the one that’s attached to you, thanks.” He then emphasized his words by putting his hand on Billy’s chest, lightly, and then moving it down, down …

“Okay, uh”, Billy said, suddenly a little breathless. “You make a compelling argument.”

Steve only smiled.


	29. Insanity

Billy hadn’t had a pet before he found Phil, but he had gained a sudden understanding for all those people who were so protective over their cats and dogs, and he had spent a couple of days feeling bad about making fun of Fred Hendricks for crying in school when his guinea pig died, back in second grade. Because he _got it_ now, okay? 

Phil had to stay with Steve, because of obvious Neil-related reasons, but that only meant that Billy had yet another reason to come over. Sure, he would have come over anyway – he’d been spending as much time as he could at Steve’s place even before Phil came into the picture – but now he had that extra reason. Two of the most important people in his life (could a cock be called ‘people’? He was pretty sure Phil could be defined as a ‘people’) in the same place. Walking through the doors at the Harrington house felt more like coming home than the house on Cherry ever did.

It was amazing, he thought, how much of a _personality_ Phil had. He didn’t know a lot about poultry (even though he’d leafed through a couple of books lately and knew a lot more than he did a month ago!), but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to tell one chicken from another if someone asked him to. But _Phil_. Phil was _special_. He had so many strange quirks, and Billy had to smile when he thought of them.

For instance, every time he slept he just put his face down on whatever surface he was lying on, as if he was trying to bury himself in it. And when they took him outside, he usually walked along unhurriedly for a while – until he snapped and put his wings halfway out and started running as if he was being chased by the devil himself. And he didn’t seem to like being alone; instead preferring to snuggle up to Billy or Steve on the couch (or even El or Will, if they were over).

He got along fabulously with the neighbor’s dog, Patty, which surprised everyone, and he liked to be petted. And while Billy had never seen him fly, he was sure that Phil would be able to, if he wanted to – even though he mainly used his wings for threatening those who tried to pick him up against his will.

Billy was damn fond of Phil, to be honest. At first, it had just been funny, to have a pet cock. But … well. Phil grew on him. The bird brought him closer to Steve, made him soft, made him _laugh_. Oh man, did Phil make him laugh …

Like now, for example. Phil was stumbling around drunkenly on the yellowish grass, and Billy _could not stop laughing._

“What the hell …?” Steve’s voice from the doorway made him turn and look, and the look on his boyfriend’s face made him laugh even harder.

He had to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes and had to try talking twice before he could get any words out. “Phil’s … _drunk_!”

Steve turned at him, mouth open in disbelief. “ _Did you get Phil drunk?_ ”

And Billy was off again, laughing until his stomach hurt at the outraged look on Steve’s face. Glancing over at Phil, who had begun spinning around in lazy circles while occasionally falling on his face, didn’t exactly help.

“I’m serious, Billy”, Steve said, frowning now. “I think that counts as animal abuse or something.” He gave Phil a worried look, and caught him just as the cock fell down again, opening his wings to catch himself and then just lying there on his side, splayed out over the ground, legs sprawled out and moving his head in circles.

It was the funniest thing Billy had ever seen, and he was laughing so hard by now that he couldn’t breathe. Apparently, even Steve found it a little funny because Billy could see him fighting back a smile.

“Berries!” Billy eventually gasped out. “He ate … berries!”

“What?”

“ _Whoooo_!” Billy said, making a conscious effort to stop laughing. A stray giggle escaped when Phil tried and failed to get up. “Fermented berries. Oh my god.” He pointed at the back of the yard, where a cherry tree stood forgotten next to an apple tree.

“What does that has to do with anything?” Steve asked, walking over to Phil and bending down to make sure he was alright.

“I read it in a book. Fermented fruit, it can make you almost drunk … and I let Phil out here and he ate the berries and apparently it’s been frosty outside, so the berries on that tree turned into … basically Phil-sized shots! He’s _absolutely plastered_! Look at him!”

Steve was holding Phil in his hands now, and Phil was looking up drunkenly, still moving his head in circles as he was trying to look back at Steve. And Steve let out a little laugh. A laugh which made Billy start howling again, as he walked over to them – to his two favorite people – and leaned on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Heh”, Steve said, smiling now. “He does look a little crazy.”

“You should have seen him when I walked out here, he was running around in circles, falling over every few steps, making the _weirdest_ noises! I thought he’d gone _insane_! But then I saw the berries.”

“Is he gonna be okay though?” Steve asked, and Billy was suddenly overwhelmed with love for his amazing, caring boyfriend. So overwhelmed that he simply _had to_ lean in and kiss him, mindful of the drunk bird in his arms.

“Yeah”, he said. “He’s just drunk. We’ve all been there.”

“M-hmm”, Steve said, chasing Billy’s lips. “So we can expect a grumpy, hungover Phil tomorrow? Sounds fun. Can’t wait.”

“Hey, at least he’s not likely to tip a bookcase over because he’s seen the Jungle book and wants to scratch his back like Baloo ...”

“Okay, hey, that was _one time,_ and it’s not like you’re any better! I caught you trying to climb up on the roof that one time, because you wanted to howl at the moon, remember?”

Billy smiled and bit his lip. “Okay, so we all go a little insane when we’re drunk. This only proves that Phil takes after his daddies.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“ … yeah. I do.”


	30. Denial

Steve couldn’t call Billy’s house in the evenings, because of Neil reasons, which at times made it bit of a hassle to get a hold of him. Especially now, when he _really_ had to get a hold of him.

In the end, he called Dustin, who radioed Max to tell Billy to come over to Steve’s place as soon as he could. Then he sat down to wait, with Phil on the couch next to him, and thought about what he was going to say – and how he was going to say it.

About an hour later, give or take, he heard the rumble of the Camaro outside. The engine stopped, there was a slam of a car door closing, and soon after that (too soon; Billy must have been running) the front door slammed open and Billy came into view, skidding to a stop when he saw Steve in the living room. He visibly deflated at the sight.

“Jesus Christ, Steve”, he said, dragging a hand down his face, “I thought you were hurt or something. What’s wrong?” While he was talking, he let his eyes roam over his boyfriend as if making sure that Steve wasn’t hiding an injury or something.

“I’m fine”, Steve said. “Sorry if I scared you.”

Billy huffed, trying to keep up his bad boy image even though he knew that Steve could see right through him by now. “Pfft, I wasn’t scared.” Steve let it slide.

“It’s about Phil.”

At this, Billy’s eyes snapped to the bird, and he went through the same mental checklist as he just had gone through with Steve. Was he hurt? What was wrong? Phil was lying down on the couch in his favorite spot, and he looked like he’d just gotten comfortable. Nothing looked like it was wrong, and Steve could see Billy’s confusion, so he gently turned and picked up Phil. Held him up so Billy could see.

“Oh, Phil!” Billy breathed, and was suddenly right in front of them. He reached out for one of Phil’s feet, but stopped just shy of touching him with his hand hovering in the air, as if afraid to hurt him.

Phil’s left foot was crudely bandaged, from his spur to his toes. Biting his lip, Billy turned to Steve with a question in his eyes.

“I’m sorry”, Steve said. “I got home, and found him in the bathroom. He’d gotten his foot stuck in the drain, and well, he probably panicked …” Billy grimaced and took the bird from Steve’s hands. “… because there were feathers all around him. He was stuck. I had to work hard to get him out of there, and he was bleeding and everything.”

“What? Wh-“

“I cleaned it up and put a bandage on. I don’t think it’s broken. But Billy …”

Billy, perhaps sensing what was to come, frowned and brought Phil a bit closer to him, burying his nose in the cock’s feathers.

Steve steeled himself. “I don’t think this is the right place for him.”

 _Betrayed._ There was no other way to describe the look on Billy’s face. “What? I … I _can’t_ keep him at home, you _know_ that, I –“

“No, I know”, Steve hurried to add. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, a house like this is no place for a bird like him.” Billy looked like he wanted to protest, but Steve continued. “There are too many ways for him to get hurt, and I can’t be here and watch him all the time.” He pointed behind him. “Just yesterday, I caught him pecking at the outlet behind the TV. He could have shocked himself, Billy. He could have died. And today, if I hadn’t gotten home early, he would have been stuck for even longer. He could have really hurt himself.”

“So we’ll … tape some cardboard over the outlets, I don’t know …” But Billy’s voice was weak, as if he knew that it wasn’t really an option.

“We can’t cock-proof a whole house, Billy”, Steve said gently.

“No, but … No.” Billy’s voice was smaller than Steve had ever heard it. “But … where would he go?” It sounded like what he really wanted to say was ‘I don’t want him to go’. Unfortunately, Steve had already made some enquiries … and had an answer.

“Farmer Johnson. Remember, where Hopper caught me trying to steal some company for Phil when you dared me?” Billy screwed his face up, trying to make it look like a frown but only succeeding in looking upset. Even then, he nodded. “Well, Hopper asked them, and they’d be happy to take Phil in.”

“You asked already?” And, great, now Billy’s voice was wavering. Steve felt like shit.

“I asked Hopper to look into it, yeah.” Billy drew in a sharp breath and turned away slightly. “But Billy, look, I don’t want him getting hurt. And I can’t stay home all the time, and you can’t be here all the time, and when my parents get home they’re not going to allow him to stay. He can’t stay at your place, and both of us are getting more busy – we’ll have to leave him alone for longer periods of time and then he’ll be alone and in danger. I don’t want that for him, and I know you don’t want that either.”

“What about … we could ask the kids, maybe, we …” Billy trailed off, perhaps realizing that it wouldn’t work. Steve said nothing, at least until Billy bent his head down and hid his face in Phil’s feathers (Phil, magnanimously, let it happen).

“I’m sorry, Billy”, Steve said, quietly, and got up. Got his arms around his boyfriend and leaned his head on Billy’s shoulder. Billy didn’t hug back – he had his arms full of Phil, after all – but he didn’t pull away either.

They stood like that for a long time.


	31. Halloween party

So, it was decided that Phil would move in with the Johnsons. Billy and Steve went with Hopper to have a talk with them, and were shown the chicken coop (“Although I believe you’ve already seen it, Mr Harrington”, as Gladys Johnson put it with a wink, hinting at Steve’s previous visit when he was drunkenly breaking in and trying to steal a hen, making him blush). They were also introduced to the hens. There were fourteen of them, and no cock, as the one they had had apparently been the victim of an unfortunate animal attack.

(Hopper, who’d stayed far away from the hens, frowned at that, and later took farmer Johnson aside to inquire about the incident.)

On the way back to town, Steve put his hand on Billy’s knee and squeezed a little. “He’ll love it there, you know. Phil. It’s perfect for him.”

“I know”, Billy said, but he didn’t meet Steve’s eyes.

The Johnsons were going to be busy with visiting relatives for a couple of days, so they agreed to bring Phil over on November 1st, which meant that Halloween night was their last night, which in turn meant that Billy planned on spending the whole night at Steve’s place while telling Neil that he was taking Max trick-or-treating and later driving her to her friend Jane’s house, as she was apparently ‘having a sleepover’.

He would have agreed to anything – he just wanted to get out of the house, and get to Steve’s. It was Phil’s last night with them, and he wanted it to be special. Steve had assured him that it would be.

After an early dinner, and just as it was getting dark, Billy packed Max up in the Camaro and drove off – Max was dressed as an axe murderer this year, the little psycho – but when he asked her where to drop her off, she just said “Steve’s” and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Steve’s?”

“Uh-huh”, she said, looking out the window. “The rest of us are meeting up there before going out.”

Billy raised an eyebrow – Steve’s place wasn’t exactly close to some of the kids’ houses – but shrugged. Maybe they wanted to start their trick-or-treating in the rich part of town. It figured that they’d have the best candy, after all.

But when they pulled up on Steve’s street, there were other cars outside the house. Hopper’s car was easily recognizable, and there was Steve’s BMW of course, and a little green car that Billy recognized as Joyce’s, as well as one that he didn’t know who it belonged to. Did everyone show up at once to drop off the kids?

He parked on the street outside, and Max was out of the car almost before he’d turned the engine off. She bounded up to the door of the house, but once there she actually waited for Billy (even though she turned and waved at him impatiently and told him to hurry up).

Bewildered, Billy went up to the house too, just as Max knocked on the door with the end of her plastic axe. Billy was just going to walk right in – like he always did, nowadays – but the doors opened before he could, revealing –

“Surprise!”

– well, _everyone_. The kids were all there, along with Hopper and Joyce and even Claudia Henderson. Nancy and Jonathan were standing off to the side. And in front of them all stood Steve, in a _chicken costume_ of all things, with a blinding smile on his face and holding Phil in his arms. Holding him out for Billy to take, as soon as Billy got over his surprise and actually crossed the threshold.

“What’s going on?” He looked around at all the smiling faces, but it was Steve who answered.

“Well, I _did_ say we would make Phil’s last night with us special … and what’s more special than a Halloween party?”

Now that Billy paid attention, he saw that everyone was dressed up in some way or another. Most of the kids looked suspiciously normal, only with different clothing, and it took a while for Billy to understand what they were dressed up as (but seeing Hopper look slightly suffering in a Superman T-shirt with suspenders, and a sugar cube shoved under his top lip tipped him off that it was probably ‘The Goonies’).

But the best outfit of the evening, hands down, went to Phil. Because someone (Joyce, he later learned) had sewed Phil a little wizard’s cape – blue with white stars on it – and had even made a matching hat (which Steve held in his hand, as Phil refused to keep it on his head). Billy couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face when he saw it.

That smile only got bigger when Will shyly presented Billy with a matching cape, mumbling that since it had been a surprise they weren’t sure if Billy had sorted out a costume so if he wanted he could be a wizard too. Billy bit his lip and absolutely did _not_ sniffle as he handed Phil over to Steve so Billy could tie the cape around his shoulders. It was a bit short, clearly made for someone shorter than him, but it was soft and smelled like it just came out of the dryer, and everyone smiled and cooed when he took Phil back and struck a pose, showing them how well they matched.

“They wanted to make you a matching hat, too”, Steve whispered, as everyone dispersed and broke off to do whatever. “But I said you’d never wear that.”

Billy pressed a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “You know me so well, babe.”

It was a successful evening. They had a bunch of food – an array of small dishes and hors d’oeuvres, mostly, even though Phil got a whole half a watermelon all to himself and seemed very pleased with it – and a huge bowl full of candy (which was technically for the trick-or-treaters who kept coming up to the door, but there were not enough trick-or-treaters in the _world_ to eat all of that candy, so everyone helped).

The kids went out trick-or-treating after an hour or so, and dragged Hopper along, who – to his credit – was only mildly protesting (he was probably relieved to get away from Phil, because he’d been throwing wary glances at him all night). Nancy and Jonathan left too (presumably for something other than trick-or-treating), Joyce and Claudia hung out in the kitchen for some mom time or something under the guise of doing the dishes (even though everyone had been using paper plates), and Steve and Billy – and Phil – were put on candy duty. Billy and Phil in their matching outfits were very popular with the kids who rang the doorbell, and a lot of people smiled widely at Steve in his (frankly ridiculous) chicken costume, especially when he claimed to be playing the part of Phil’s mom.

Billy and Steve were alone in the hallway between trick-or-treaters, and couldn’t really keep their hands off of each other. Even though “I’m not making out with you while you’re wearing a chicken costume, Steve.”

“What?” Steve said and took a step back, and gestured at all of himself – from the felt comb on the hood of the costume, to the atrocious orange socks with fake bird feet that he had on his feet. “I thought you _liked_ cocks?”

Billy smiled wider. “Oh I _do_ , you know that, but you’re a _chicken_. There’s a difference.”

“Yeah? What?”

“Well”, Billy said, trailing a finger from Steve’s chin and down over the felt wattle. “In my experience, one can have much more fun with cocks …”

“Oh so you have a lot of experience, do you?”

“One could say that.”

Steve licked his lips, and was just about to speak when the doorbell rang again. He held up a finger, cleared his throat and brushed past Billy to open the door. Just as he passed, though, he whispered “You’ll have to show me later, then” into Billy’s ear, and smiled sweetly at him just as he threw the door open to welcome a boy dressed as a tiny witch, a girl dressed as a cat, and a tired-looking woman holding a toddler dressed as a fairy. Steve greeted them and complimented their outfits, and Billy grabbed the candy bowl.

Eventually, the stream of trick-or-treaters turned into just the occasional straggler, and eventually those stopped coming too. The kids (and a weary Hopper, who had lost (or eaten) his sugar cube tooth) came back, chatting loudly and with their bags full of sweets. The bowl of candy in the hallway was still half-full, and they brought it into the living room as everyone plopped down on any available surface to watch a scary movie. Billy and Steve sat in the couch, Phil next to them in his favorite spot. Billy kept petting him, and smiled – a little wistfully – when Phil’s eyes closed in contentedness and he faceplanted into the pillow.

Hopper fell asleep during the movie, and was snoring loudly with his head tipped back on the armchair he was sitting in as the credits rolled. The kids were all awake, but more subdued now – most likely in a sugar coma – and Joyce stretched and clapped her hands, telling everyone that it might be time to call it a night. There were hugs all around, and distribution of various Tupperware containers full of leftovers and home-made treats, and everyone made sure to – if not _hug_ Phil, then at least pet him a bit. Even Hopper, after some gentle bullying from just about everyone, poked at Phil’s back with a finger (and quickly drew it back when Phil moved his head).

Soon, the last of them drove off, and Steve, Billy and Phil were the only ones left in the house. Steve pulled down the zipper of his chicken costume and climbed out of it, leaving him in shorts, a T-shirt, and long orange socks with chicken feet. Billy snorted out a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing. You look good, is all.”

Steve laughed and struck a pose. He was sweaty and his hair was standing up in every direction, but the socks really accentuated his legs and Billy couldn’t help but appreciate it. To show his appreciation, he crowded Steve against the wall and kissed him. Deeply, first, but then softer. Steve smiled into it, and put a hand on Billy’s face.

“Was tonight okay? I know you wanted to spend time with Phil but, I mean, you said you wanted to make it special and I –“

“Steve”, Billy interrupted. “They made him a _costume_ and brought him a watermelon. Tonight was _perfect_.” He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “Thank you.”

They just stood like that for a while, breathing in each other’s air, until Steve let out a breath and nudged Billy with his nose. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah.”

They parted, if a little reluctantly, and then Steve bit his lip and scratched at the back of his neck. “I was thinking … since it’s Phil’s last night with us … Maybe we should let him join us. Just this _once_ , I –“

“Save it, pretty boy”, Billy snickered. “I know he sleeps in the bed when I’m not here.”

Steve blushed. “What? No he doesn’t …”

“I found feathers under the cover, and you’re not complaining about him making noise at night anymore.”

“… okay, fine.”

Billy nudged him with an elbow and gave him a smile. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m glad my cock can be there for you when I can’t.”

“You’re an ass.”

Billy continued, as if he hadn’t heard. “Besides, both of my favorite boys in the same bed? Can’t get much better than that.”

“… but a _charming_ ass.”

***

Later, when they were lying under the covers in Steve’s bed – holding hands, and with Phil on his favorite pillow between them – Billy took a shuddering breath. Steve squeezed his hand gently and let his thumb run over Billy’s. “You okay?”

“Yeah”, Billy answered.

“He’ll be better off there, you know.”

“I know.” For a minute, no one said anything, but then Billy spoke up again. “Can he keep his pillow?”

He heard, more than saw, Steve huff out a breath, and knew he was smiling. “Yeah, Billy. He can keep his pillow. We’ll bring it with us when we drive him over tomorrow.”

Trying to regain his dignity, Billy cleared his throat and said, “Well, at least we won’t have to worry about getting cock-blocked by an actual cock anymore.” But his words were belied by the way he reached up and ran his finger gently over Phil’s feathered back.

He looked up in the dark when he heard rustling from the other side of the bed. Steve bent over him, careful not to bother Phil, and pressed the gentlest of kisses to Billy’s lips.

“Well”, he whispered, breath hot on Billy’s skin. “ _Your_ cock may be moving out tomorrow. But at least you’ll always have _my_ cock, and that one is forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fun, and just BECAUSE, and because I couldn't not, and because I had to be contrary, and a little bit out of spite. The very best combination! :D
> 
> Not beta-read at ALL, but I honestly doubt anyone will read long enough to be annoyed by the lack of care. If you've managed to get this far: kudos to you! Keep on being awesome!


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